CODE: Kronos
by Vickie1
Summary: It came in the email. By who? Unknown. But what she got is more important-a cry for help, leading Claire Redfield and three allies to a tropical island hidden from the world thanks to HELIX. What they discover is not only a virus that outmatches any other in history but also an 11-year-old lie and a friend she thought was dead... It's a race against the clock to save lives.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

**RESIDENT EVIL**

**CODE: Kronos**

By Vickie1

* * *

><p><em>Summary: It came in the email. By who? Unknown. But what she got is more important-a cry for help, leading Claire Redfield and three allies to a tropical island hidden from the world thanks to the power and money of HELIX Foundations. What they discover is not only the outbreak of a virus that outmatches any other in history but also an 11-year-old lie and a friend she thought was dead... It's a race against the clock to save 8,000 lives and more in this game of chess.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

* * *

><p><em>"Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change." ― Stephen Hawking<em>

* * *

><p><em>28 May 2006, 7:58 P.M.<br>__? ? ?_

_Tap, click, tap, tap, tap!_

Access ({  
>hostname: 'localhost',<br>user id: '********',  
>password: '******',<br>database: 'internet access'  
>}).connect(function(web network))<br>({public string security firewall = 'offline';  
>private string network firewall = 'offline';<br>private string HELIX protection = 'offline';  
>}).run(function(bogus virus))<br>(run(function(anti-hacking alert))  
>}).initiate Anónimo program;<p>

_Click!_

THE DARKNESS IN THE CYBERSPACE lit up like a Christmas tree. The realm around him shifted and twisted to make data into blue-lined 'physical' blocks. It was alive, forming the way he could interact – move freely just like anyone would in reality.

Minus the boundaries of course.

"Ok... Just need to get pass security and find the address."

It was still an open void but he could see the marker. Estimated over 500 kilometres away. Every footstep he took sent ripples through the grid lines.

Crossing the ocean was easy. But that was only if he didn't trigger any alarms.

_Calm down. You've done this many times. Just a simple delivery.  
><em>

He was smart but he was also scared. He pulled out all the safety measures he had. All the tricks he'd mastered over the years. One wrong move and it would take seconds for the hot shots to find him and the laptop in his bedroom.

The world ahead of him rose up with towering rectangles. The ripples below his feet crippled into soundwaves as he entered a coastal city.

Ok, he was out of HELIX's grounds.

"Anti-hacking software detected."

_Ah, hostia.  
><em>

He was expecting to be hounded even outside the island's network. Just not this early before he could execute another bogus virus to lead them astray. 'Anónimo' was a wanted man by every government agency out there.

"Anónimo, how many?" he asked.

"Five. 2 and 3 o'clock."

He found himself in a crossroad with two forks intersecting into it. In the distance, he could make out the slow, low-intelligent formless AIs swarming after him in the empty matrix world. The 'white-blood cells' of the internet's protection.

Sloppy programming. Made the attackers look like zombies.

"Too old school."

_BANG! BANG!_

His years of playing shooting games were paying off.

He ducked into the right fork after clearing it out, the marker ahead of him in sight. It was still a long way – probably would take thirty minutes on foot, straight line.

He didn't have thirty minutes. He was down to six out of a fifteen-minute window.

"Whoa!"

A giant red holographic barrier fell before him, blocking his way down the main street. A firewall.

And lovely. It was from DOD.

"Great!" He slammed a fist at the virtual wall. "Anónimo, I need a route to the nearest transport server. Hurry!"

The marker's location changed in a blink. Northwest, through downtown.

_Huh. Kind of empty-  
><em>

"Twelve in approach."

_Nevermind._

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Gah!" he yelped, foreign arms wrapped tight around his neck from the back. "Get off me, you carallo!"

With a strong swing, he elbowed his surprise attacker. He kept on moving, sending glimpses at the spilling data coming out from a scratch in his upper arm.

Just a flesh wound. He could patch it up later. Luckily, it wasn't severe but that didn't mean he couldn't be less careful. Unlike his games, attackers tearing his avatar apart wouldn't mean a game over. If he 'dies' in cyberspace, they'd be getting a free pass to his IP address in demi-seconds.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

He cleared his path and in two minutes, he found his next point of interest and raced up a set of stairs.

"When's the next train leaving for Weston?"

"40 seconds."

"Great."

He kicked it into high-gear, save the ammo for later. The only good prompt about being in cyberspace was he could easily hopscotch over the gates without a ticket or guards.

His form of transportation began to leave.

"Time for some distraction," he huffed and scooped out a neon blue cube from his inventory. With a toss, the cube metamorphosed into an identical avatar. "AI dummy to Clear Rapids."

With a mind of its own, the second avatar headed to a second aisle while he leapt onto the long three-dimensional train. Before he shut the back door behind him, he peeked out to see the attackers climbing onto the second train.

He smirked. This made the fourth time DOD fell for that trick.

"Ok. Might as well enjoy the ride for a bit."

No matter where in the net, there would always be connections. Everything was connected. Through wifi, through bluetooth, through every circuit on board and outside the mobile vehicle. The virtual train he was closely resembling the train's real world, choked with all sorts of folks leaving for home while they thumbed away on their smartphones to kill the boredom. After all, the world was what made the net.

Moving through the compartments, he searched for something to patch up the hole in his arm – spotted a little virtual green entity of thin sticks and with a slap of it onto the arm, it instantly refilled the gap.

Good as new.

"Arriving in Weston."

What would have been two hours on a long-distance passenger transit between states in real life was about a small faction through the network's channels.

He hopped out the train. "Ok, next point."

The marker updated itself, the spinning abstract arrow a stadium-length away from where he stood. He ran.

A dying whistling sound entered his ears. Instinct took him to halt as the blocks before him dismantled and fell down through a bottomless pit. The streaming blue lines zooming into the once structured region ended before the dark ditch.

"Proxy servers shut down in west district."

"Well. They pulled out a blackout. Anónimo, alternative route."

The marker updated again. "Fourteen in proximity."

"Guess DOD's throwing everything at me this year."

Six minutes left. Time to brute-force it.

Attackers swarmed into the street he darted into. Five shots were fired and he quickly switched to his melee weapon. Whacked one down to the ground, he then smashed the AI's head with his foot. Data scattered and the body of information dematerialised.

"Twenty coming your way."

He glanced up. Halfway to his destination.

Five minutes left.

_I can't stop now!_

He kept going, scooped another three dummy cubes and tossed them to the floor. They'd have to be his troops. His clones swung out their own virtual firearms and fired at the overwhelming packs. But he knew it wouldn't be enough. More and more would keep on coming.

Unless DOD had a higher priority than him.

"Anónimo, send two dummies to their building server and hack in."

He watched the two hijack onto a bus transit link down one lane to another nearby city while the third one followed his lead. The horde was splitting up, the numbers relentlessly growing twice as faster as before and with more red roadblocks falling from the infinite sky.

His guess; another player, just as skilled as him, hired by DOD to catch people like him in cyberspace.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Four minutes. 25 kilometres away from the point

"DOD server hacked in. Power offline."

He and his partner had entered into an office building to escape the attackers. Through the clear windows, the blue lines of one single building sitting on the other side of the realm completely shut down, pitching away into the cyber world's darkness. With the shutdown of DOD's computer network, the dazed savage AIs fell onto their knees with the light in their eyes and their contour lines dying out. Dropping through the ground and into nothingness.

Thirty seconds of panic and darkness in the Pentagon.

It was smooth sailing from here on out but he still had to beat the clock. Another second of delay and he'd have no choice but to cut off his operation.

Back down to the first floor. He jumped through the glass. The other dummy followed without question. Both dove down a 50-storey building without fear. Without consequence. Both avatars landed on the virtual floor like superheroes surviving a freefall that far with no broken legs. Further from there, he and his AI friend jumped onto an internal bus network.

By the time the thirty seconds were up in the Pentagon, he was gone from their radar - already dropped off at his destination. From what he had gathered about the place before he started, it was a nice suburban neighbourhood within the street of tightly knitted apartments. Close to the nearest train station, a good school, low crime. Nothing fantastic.

He swiped his fingers at his AI friend, his touch converting it back into its cubic form and slotting it back into his inventory. "Traffic security footage."

The cyberspace shifted again, textures of brick, stone and grass simmering across the blackness. Lampposts and car lights lit up the one-way street. Although it should be past dinnertime now, there were a few people manifesting inside the cyber world– laughing, talking, enjoying the cold starry night in their real world. A couple walked right into him but he was a ghost, easily phrasing through their bodies of data.

Three minutes.

A SUV drove down the street, catching his eyes. A father, a mother and two kids.

His pace slowed down as his eyes followed the happy family driving by. Maybe coming from a dinner, he guessed. And later on, would be doing some get-together activity at their home before the kids went to bed.

Truthfully, he had a hint of jealousy...

He shook his head. _Focus._ And turned his attention to one of the apartments.

One wave of the hand and a small window interface blinked before him.

He checked it. The envelope icon flashed on the interface.

_Ok...just a drop, a check, then plug out._

Smaller blue lines with circled ends glided into the building. At the side of the entrance, he touched them and in response, names appeared. Names of owners with their personal IP addresses inside the apartment.

One finger ran down the list.

"There."

It ended at _Claire Redfield_.

"Let's hope she's at home," he said and phrased right into the building.

He had heard the name but never met this person before. He had been told about her but not a lot. And no doubt once he sent in the message, Miss Redfield would be calling the government that her computer was hacked in by...him. However, he was the messenger today. Delivering something big and something important. Only to her and her alone. No one, not the FBI. Not the CIA or the BSAA. Nobody but her.

He wasn't sure why her. All he was told was that Redfield _needed_ to have this email.

At all cost.

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Follow the marker

* * *

><p>Vickie: Hello everyone and welcome to the prologue of my new fanfic. Actually, this would be considered a revamped idea of an old RE fic I did long ago.<p>

Come to think of it, I've been revamping my ideas a lot now and then.

Anyway, it's a complete revamp. What's more, because I've had study in game design, I'm writing this story like...it's a game to you. You can instantly imagine the prologue being your tutorial round through like any Resident Evil games, learning the basics and all. I'm very much hoping that this will not only be better than my original (now dead) idea but also that with me thinking of the plot like it's a video game, you're not only feel engrossed to it like it's a fanfic but also a game too.

However, this idea, I can see it as a big one for me to write alone. Even the next chapter, I know I'm gonna be struggling because I'm not that well-invested in Resident Evil. I do like some of the games but the lore, I'm not too sure here and there. Even on information, details bout characters, etc that ended in 1998 in the RE universe and never much continued on in the latest games.

So if you guys are really interested after the prologue, then I'd like to ask your help. I've already made a help forum post that I will often return to ask questions – at least to understand better of Resident Evil stuff and even real world stuff. Even brainstorm on backstories of existing characters that stopped at 1998.

You can help out here: www. fanfiction topic/5553/122610093/1/Resident-Evil-Kronos-Help-Post [just take out the spaces]

I really hope for your help and I will be thankful. This idea, I really want to write it just as much as I write any game document, but more of a story to you. But I know, I can't do it alone without info and your help.

Thank you again and I hope you enjoy the prologue for the time being. I don't know how long this will take me but I look forward to writing it. :) Please r'n'r!

P.S. I really hate the formatting the doc manager has. I had written the prologue very nicely, with paragraph spaces too. :/

Cover designed by me. :) Hope you like it too.


	2. Chapter One: SOS

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: S.O.S.<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Life is strong and fragile. It's a paradox. ~ Joan Jett<em>

* * *

><p><em>28 May 2006, 8:04 P.M.<em>

_Weston City, U.S.A._

RAIN.

The mighty little bullets tapped against the window like an annoying beat. Millions upon millions of wiggling shadows cast into the dark apartment, only lit by the shimmering blotches of lampposts outside and the orange numbers of 8:04 P.M. on a digital clock inside.

Everything was still.

The turning of the number '4' to '5' clicked in near fateful sync with the soft opening and the loud shutting of the front door.

_BANG!_

Stomp, stomp, stomp went the young twenty-seven-year-old woman as she pitched her keys and bag away in a fit of frustration. Her fingers combed through her brown hair, pacing back and forth.

The words still stung in her head.

_***/*/*/***_

_"You wanted to see me, Sir?"_

_ A disappointed sigh. "Redfield, we need to talk."_

_***/*/*/***_

It was this afternoon. Called to come to the director's office. She didn't expect it to go down that way – then again, she rarely ever had a reason to visit him. She had a perfect record, followed protocol like a priest to a bible. The director himself praised her for handling the Harvardville incident last year. So there was nothing to raise a red flag.

No. There was one little thing.

And Claire Redfield was found out.

***/*/*/***

_"Sure, Sir." Claire managed the most brightly casual smile she could give. In retrospect, it might have been a bad decision. "What did you want– "_

_ "Redfield, I'll cut to the chase. I've had reports that you've been making frequent requests to Infosec."_

_It was a reflex she absentmindedly did. Her body tensed and she bit her lip. The director could clearly see it and his notion was correct. Likewise, Claire could see he wished it wasn't._

_ "Why?"_

_ She tried to relax. _

_ "I was looking up on an old case. Double-checking is all."_

_ "Really? Well, I've checked too and you're not working on any cases that need the information division at Quantico."_

_ Again, the twitch in her body. This time, she couldn't walk out of it._

_ "Redfield, tell me the truth. You're working on this under the covers. Why?"_

_***/*/*/***_

It was a rookie mistake. She should have been more careful. But she was getting desperate.

A single rumour that surfaced three months ago and she discovered it through the backwaters. It rekindled a very old hope she had long ago. A hope she had moved on years ago. But the more she dug to find out its legitimacy, the more she was finding dead ends.

Each cul-de-sac was killing that renewed hope, and thus pushing her frantic attempt to keep on looking. Finding. Any clue to lead her closer to the rumor.

***/*/*/***

_Claire slugged her shoulders. She couldn't lie. Not to the director. Not an associate. _

_ Hopkins didn't like how far off the handle she went once she said the truth._

_ His voice grew angry. "Claire, you gave the techs wrong information to confirm a claim. For personal gain. Do you know how much red tape you've broken? How badly this could affect your reputation?"_

_ "Sir, let me explain!"_

_ "Enough!" It was a strong shout that shook through her. She had overstepped her boundary._

_ The director calmed down in his seat but his authority-filled eyes stayed dead set on her. _

"_As of this moment, you're suspended without pay. Two weeks."_

_ She couldn't believe her ears. Suspension!?_

"_But, sir-!"_

"_Claire, it's been a rough year. You should take this as a vacation," the director stated both firmly and concernedly. "I mean it."_

_***/*/*/***_

She had tried to persist but the director had put down his foot, whether she liked it or not.

***/*/*/***

_ The director could easily read the soured expression on her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He knew her well enough, one of his best employees._

_ "Claire. I know why you broke the rules this one time... But you have to stop chasing a ghost."_

_***/*/*/***_

And that was the end. She bolted out of the office silently, out of TerraSave HQ and drove back to her little apartment in Weston.

There was nowhere else to go. Just...home.

In the cold living room filled with dribbling shadows.

Claire heaved a very tired sigh. It had been a very long time since she had lost her cool. She dropped onto the stuffy sofa and let the metrical tapping of rain ring through her ears.

_Well, it could have been worse. I could have been fired..._

Claire rolled her head to the digital clock. Should she call? It wouldn't do good to add more worry to Chris, especially at this hour. She was a big girl, she could handle this suspension like a mature woman.

From the last email she got, her brother was being stationed in Afghanistan for a while to investigate another possible bioterrorist group. A lot of tension brewing between the USA and Iraq was making things difficult.

It couldn't be helped.

With the suspicion of bioterrorism tied to the Rasuls in the Middle East and the USA's BSAA stepping on Muslim soil, it was putting more needles into the people over there. Stringing them up to attack America in their land with guns and tanks.

Might have been the bioterrorist's plan. Stir up a religious conflict among the people to slow the BSAA down long enough to launch their counterattacks at the side; infecting everyone, even citizens, insurgencies and the Afghan governments.

TerraSave had decided to help out as much as they could, sending members to help the citizens.

Yup...TerraSave members were working. And she was not.

"...Hopkins was right," she mumbled to herself. "All I'm looking for is a ghost."

Claire inhaled and buckled up. Two weeks. What could she do for two weeks?

She looked around her apartment. How sad. Ever since she moved to Weston, she hadn't done much to it – much of her things were still in boxes by the closet. It was still a reasonably nice home. Claire had a few ideas of what she wanted to do when she got herself her own house but since joining TerraSave, she had never much put effort into them.

It was laughable. Claire only came home on weekends. And those were very few times. What classified as 'home' was pretty much TerraSave.

She didn't even have a hobby to look forward to when coming home. Sometimes reading but alas, it would always be work. Not for pleasure.

_Two weeks..._

Maybe she should arrange her apartment. Just to look like a better excuse of a home. Maybe even owe a little dog to keep her company. One that didn't shed. And didn't bark a lot.

Or a fish, considering how often she had to go to work and cross states.

No, she might accidentally starve it to death during one of her trips.

That was when she spied her lonely laptop, charging on the kitchen counter.

She had nothing else to do now. Might as well check emails and have dinner. Sleep early too. She could figure out what she could do tomorrow.

Off into the kitchen, Claire switched on the laptop and headed to the fridge. Mostly empty, like her apartment. Luckily, she found a TV dinner.

Expired? She checked. Just last week. She couldn't complain.

Three minutes entered into the microwave and she strolled back to the laptop with the only soda can in hand. Hit a few keys and she was in.

She took a sip.

"Ugh!" She cringed. She hadn't expected the piercing, fermented taste of rust.

First emails that caught her eyes were from her co-workers over at Iraq. She opened them and read line after line. It was tough – no news yet of any viral outbreak but there had been a few outbursts. Attached were several photos: of TerraSave members, smiling rescued orphans, and Muslim helpers working together with distribution of food, clothing, blankets and medicine.

A brighter side of the war.

No email from her brother. Expected. But she wasn't too worried. She still kept tags on the BSAA, even had gotten Jill to send a message if ever he went missing.

Well, he did once. Two years ago. But from what Claire had heard, the situation was handled and Chris came back alive. Still, for him to just up like that...

Her lips stretched happily, seeing Sherry's protected email. From the contents she read, it seemed like the young woman was doing well this month and last month. The smile turned downwards upon reading further down the long email.

Even if Sherry kept her best to hide it in her email, Claire could easily read between the lines. The nightmares were still there. Not worse than before but not gone. Claire could relate. The only difference was a child had been struggling against the trauma for eight years.

Note, she should go visit Sherry tomorrow. Sherry was one of the reasons why she moved to Weston.

There was one email that she discovered as...unusual.

It was the first one at the top. She had just gotten it, her laptop giving a beep at its arrival. Moreover, she didn't recognise the address.

Actually, she didn't even recognise the email service. Was it a new one?

Only the title, "**Important. Please Read**".

Anyone would instantly say it was spam. Well, the title didn't seem to say some outrageous deal. Actually, this email didn't even get listed into the spam box in the first place.

It wasn't a TerraSave address. It wasn't from a friend.

Her gut feeling was pricking at her. An anonymous, serious email in her laptop...

_Just a peek. _

She sighed.

_Great._

A jumble of symbols and large caps filled the email.

_You send me an encrypted email when I don't even know you._

She deleted it.

_Ding!_

Good, she was getting hungry. Up she went and opened the microwave. Carefully with a few "Ah! Ah!" and some blows, she cupped the TV dinner.

_Season three of Downfall was five months ago. Wonder if it's still going..._

_Beep beep beep!_ went her laptop. And it wasn't a good sound.

Her eyes widened at the screen and in a fit of panic, her fingers dropped the tray and darted to the keyboard. Didn't matter if the sauces splattered across the counter.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! NO!" she yelled but regardless of how hard she hit the keys, the problem wouldn't go away.

The screen was flashing red alerts and static. Her firewall had been breached. Did the email contain a Trojan horse?

First the suspension, and now a computer _**virus**_ in the latest model provided by TerraSave!

"Dammit, this can't be happening!" She fisted the table.

Then, it stopped.

A software window suddenly opened, taking over the screen. It looked like a video feed and yet it wasn't, decorated with blue and white numbers and letters on a black background.

Someone stared back at her. But not a human's face.

Half black and half white, meeting right down the center. Like a full masquerade face mask of a joker with neither a smile nor a frown. There was no way of seeing the rest of the body, only up to the shoulders on screen. Flowing hair, in a style where one half was shaved and the other was left overgrown, was visually formed by lines of binaries and matrices from the roots of its head.

Its one eye glaring hollowly out from the sockets of its mask was directed at hers.

Its voided mouth appeared on the blank mask.

"_Read the email._"

The robotic, stiff voice came from the speakers. Claire froze on the spot, unsure what to make of this.

"_Please read it._"

Then the window closed. The 'person' was gone. The screen became normal. Like the virus was never there to begin with.

Her inbox, however, was different. At the top of the list, the encrypted email was back and opened up on its own. A password was keyed in without her even touching the keyboard and at command, the cryptic symbols shifted and morphed into plain English.

It was as if her computer got possessed. Did she get hacked? Claire had never heard of such a hacking tool like what she had seen before her very eyes, not even from the techs at Infosec. Moreover, that 'person', whatever it was, knew. She had deleted the email and 'it' wanted her to read it.

Warily and slowly, she sat down and took a closer look. The large cramped paragraphs were now simple one-sentences with attachments.

One audio. Several files. Two jpegs. But there was one common phrase.

Cape Inacio.

She opened another window and typed the location. Zero results.

The name didn't exist in the Internet.

Claire opened the files first and her laptop was flooded with documents of all sorts, all tagged with a familiar company logo. Two identical hexagon-shaped spaces – one on top of the other with lines forming an X, at the end of four bold golden letters.

HELIX Foundations.

A powerful conglomerate, rival with TRICELL head to head for the lead in the industry and also prominent in the Federation of Pharmaceutical Companies. Particularly a common name across the globe, more well-known than TRICELL – provider of more than a third of the world's diversified pharmaceuticals, innovator of medical and prosthetic inventions that have benefited hospitals, investigation units, every healthcare organization over the last three decades, idealist of the medical world– the list just went on. The most recent news was HELIX dwelling deeper into neural networks, artificial intelligence and neuroprosthetics to advance the medical science.

They triumphed continuously over TRICELL in front of the media. Their squeaky clean reputation was more influential than the indicted and destroyed Umbrella. Their work has saved millions...

So...what was the link to these documents?

First thing to catch her eyes was an electronic map of a small tropical island, roughly an area of 300 km with unfamiliar landmarks. Titled _**Cape Inacio**_.

Second thing was a zoomed in picture of crudely-distorted organism agents.

"Oh no," she groaned. "Not another one."

The biological structures – they were a dead giveaway.

A virus.

What was it and what was it capable of? The other documents had nothing – only numbers and statements that linked between HELIX and Cape Inacio. Unusual statements and numbers. One was a suspicious document depicting the medical transfers of injured or sick prisoners from US prisons to HELIX's medical centers. But the many times Claire and others had survived through in the past, she had a hunch that this virus was no doubt deadly.

What was HELIX planning? No, a more pressing question came to mind – why was she given this?

She opened the audio.

Nothing but static in the first few seconds. She was expecting some sort of explanation about this new virus to come out.

There were some sounds. Shuffling. Breathing. Like someone was having difficulty to speak.

"Ahem..." A voice of a woman, tinted with a strange mixed accent, was cleared with a couple of nervous coughs. Then a sigh. "My name is Iria McLenlan. Head Director of Theseus Research Facility..."

Silence for two seconds. Then a grown.

"Screw formality," the voice whispered. Her tone surprisingly changed from the unsteady seriousness to scared casualness. "I'll cut it short. At the end of this month, a virus named the Kronos Virus will be finished. But an outbreak on the world is...the least of anyone's concern...  
>Over 8,000 people live on Cape Inacio, exactly where the virus is being developed. Out of that, 3,682 employees have been working in this facility; scientists, security, staff, doctors. All because we were told that if we didn't cooperate...the rest would be killed or be used for experiments. Men, women and children... Additionally, 1,280 prisoners were brought here to the facility...making it a total of 9,280 people. "<p>

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You can imagine where I am going with this... Once HELIX gets their hands on the completed virus, all employees, all residents on this island...will be expendable. There is no way of contacting the outside without triggering HELIX's security. How this information got to you is thanks to...someone with very good computer skills."

There had been a pause. From what she heard, the woman had some connection to whoever sent the email.

"I'm not going to give those bastards the pleasure of killing us off. I've already made a plan of how we can get off the island before that happens. All of us," the voice enforced the last sentence. "But I'm also afraid. So I need to make a backup plan. You're my backup plan."

Claire wasn't too sure about feeling 'obliged' to be backup. What could she do?

"You have evidence. GPS coordinates to the island. As much information as I could skimp for you. I want you to get whatever help possible. Rescue teams, ships, anything that can rescue everyone. Anything before the deadline. In case...in case, the original plan fails and there's no one else to save our families."

One hand cupped to her mouth. Her shoulders were feeling dramatically heavy from the responsibility she was being given.

"And...if 8,000 people isn't a good enough reason...then I can give you another, Claire Redfield."

Claire was surprised. _How did she–_

"Steve Burnside is alive."

Her heart stopped.

"That's how I know about you. He told me."

_ No... No. That's a lie._

_ Steve is dead. He died years ago._

"...I've seen the surveillance videos from Rockfort Island and Antarctica. I know what happened there."

_Shut up! This is just a trick!_

It was as if Claire was being pried, boiling her from the inside.

_If you saw it, then you should have already seen his death! That doesn't mean you know him!_

The woman in the audio didn't seem to cease the trickery, her tired voice droning. "I know... Hard to believe. The virus, people kept against their own will, and now this... I don't blame you." Pause. "Red hair. Green eyes. Bit of a hothead but a bright kid. If he doesn't leap before he thinks. Has to prove a point that he doesn't need to rely on others, can handle things himself. But he has a good heart, knows who to trust, knows which back to look out. Has quite an appetite too." The voice giggled but it sadly died. "And...if that kiddo hadn't come to this island...I think I wouldn't have been making these plans in the first place... I owe a lot to that kid. A lot of people owe him, just for being here."

Claire's temper settled. It was too convincing. As if this person knew him, more than she did...and yet, the woman sounded in debt.

No, more like a guardian.

...How long did the woman know Steve?

"Steve trusts you. That's enough for me to trust you. I don't know anyone else outside that can help us. So I chose you... And...if you choose to come just for him, I'm fine with that. He deserves getting out of here too and...it's a better reason than helping out strangers."

Again, a pause. Longer.

The woman was struggling. Trying to keep her cool as best as she could.

"Miss Redfield...I don't care about the virus or my reputation. I don't care much about those corporate dogs paying me to shut up and be their obedient pet. I don't give a damn of what happens to me." Claire could have sworn...she heard soft crying. Anger. "I just want...everyone off and away from this island... None of us wanted to drag our families and friends down with us. They had nothing to do with bio-weaponry. They're just innocents!"

Heavy breaths. A few quick sniffles and another second of silence to regain back broken self-control.

"Please...help us."

The plea was desperate.

This couldn't be an act.

"I wish I was meeting you in person instead of through an audio file. Under better circumstances. But...I don't think I'll live long enough for that..."

Claire's gut feeling pinched again. This was a director. Which meant she broke through a lot of tape to get the message to her.

Which meant the woman may have already paid the price by the time Claire got the email.

"I want to say...thank you. For listening to this and whatever you do next."

The voice was muffled by tears but the owner held back her composure as firm as she could.

"'There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses,'" she heard the voice quoted. "...Something my father once told me..."

The audio ended another few seconds later.

Claire stared into the screen, painted with the continuous dancing shadows. She thought long and hard. Had it been eight years ago, she would have jumped the gun. Didn't matter the consequences but she'd have gone to the island at the mere mention of Steve.

She was wiser now. Part of her said this didn't prove that Steve was alive. But the TerraSave side pointed out lives were at stake. Not just supposedly people on the island but also the world if the virus got out. What was more, this woman in the audio passed a heavy baton to her– the responsibility of thousands of lives on a single island.

The rest wanted to be hopeful.

There was one more attachment. The second picture. She opened it.

There...that was enough proof.

"Steve..."

It was a cropped-out picture, perhaps from a photograph of a small group standing in front of the camera. And there he was in the photo, smiling. Alive. And hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him...

Standing with that familiar smirk was the green-eyed young man she remembered eight years ago.

Her eyes watered. Just a bit. It was too early to be crying.

But she still had a dilemma.

As a TerraSave member, she should be contacting HQ and showing them the evidence she had. Get as much manpower as possible. Contact the navy, BSAA, every hands on deck to get together for a large-scale operation.

The only problem was that she was suspended. Once she gave the information to TerraSave, she would be told to go back to her apartment. What made this worse was...

"Too personal. Hopkins would say that..."

No way would Director Hopkins let her in. Another matter was that it may be too late by the time TerraSave gathered everything and reached the island. If what the voice said was true, HELIX would get their virus and destroy every piece of evidence linking between the company and the development.

Including over 9,000 lives...

End of this month..that was days away. Too short a timeframe.

However...Claire Redfield was suspended.

She was free to do whatever she wanted.

Claire scooped out her smartphone and connected it to her laptop via the model's own USB port. Quickly, whiles copies were being made, she skimmed through a shipping document and did a little research on the side.

An island of people needed resources. Resources needed to be shipped somehow.

And she found her means of transportation through her research.

She glanced at the clock. "Eight hours. I can make it."

Her phone went beep and she unhooked the port out. She flipped it open and dialled the numbers as she forwarded the email to TerraSave.

It'd only be until morning before anyone would read it but by then, Claire would have been long gone.

The line clicked in her ears. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Claire." She shut her laptop and fished out her spare handgun from the drawer. Travel light.

"Oh, hey, Claire! What's up–"

"I need your help. How fast can you get to El Delmor?"

The other end was surprised. "Wait, at this hour? Why-"

"I'll explain to you when I get there. Bring your gun too."

"What? What's going on? What happened? Why-?"

"It's going to happen again. Like Rockfort."

That got the attention. "Another virus?"

"Yes. And soon."

"Then we should be contacting BSAA-"

"There won't be any time!" she uttered as she grabbed whatever she thought could be important into her bag. "By the time TerraSave and BSAA rally everyone on this, it'd be too late!"

"Shouldn't you be telling this to Chris or Jill-?"

"You know as well as I do. They're still in Iraq. Rebecca," Claire croaked. "I have nobody to turn to. Please."

The voice hesitated.

It would be suicide to go alone. Claire had too many experiences doing that before, having searched for her brother when Raccoon City fell. She was better than that now and needed someone who could back her if she was going to go back into Hell.

She could have called Leon. She could have called Chris. Jill. Heck, maybe Barry. Her friends from TerraSave.

The last time she heard about Leon, he had gone on another assignment the year – this time with his division partnered with a division in the Navy. And Barry was retired from the life of fighting against biological warfare since the Raccoon incident, spending more time with his family. Most of her TerraSave friends were in Iraq.

Rebecca became her last choice.

"Please..."

"...This is important to you."

"More than you think."

The silence told her Rebecca was thinking. Hard. If she chose to come, she'd be reliving the nightmares too.

It was unfair. Although Rebecca had joined BSAA, invited by Chris to the cause, she was mostly in Research and Development within the American branch. Rare times, she had to draw out her firearm. But the life she was in under BSAA had been a peaceful and quiet one.

"I know a friend with a plane."

Claire had been holding back her breath during the duration Rebecca was thinking. "Thank you."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

The two women didn't exchange goodbyes but they acknowledged this was the end of the call.

_ McLenlan, I'm not going to just save Steve._

Claire flipped her smartphone shut and hurtled to the door, slipping on her jacket.

_I'm going to save all of you._

The door slammed behind her.

Time for a little vacation.

* * *

><p><em>8:13 P.M.<em>

_Cape Inacio, Atlantic Ocean_

_Click, tap, tap, click!_

He checked. Double-checked. Triple-checked.

Didn't seem like the island's security had found him. The bogus virus he had sent out should have distracted them long enough until his avatar got out of the wide world's cyberspace.

Inside the heavily protection of the island's network, it was another story.

He had no choice but to drop out after he 'talked' to Miss Redfield. Urged her to read the email. He went beyond his fifteen-minute window and had to close off his connection between him and her. He wasn't sure what happened after that.

He hoped she had read it. Because after he opened the email for her, he too got a glimpse at the attachments.

His curiosity got the better of him. He never opened to see what the contents were before he sent so it was a surprise to him when he hacked them open for Miss Redfield to read at her laptop.

After his disconnection, he read some of the files. He had yet to listen to the audio file. But the documents were strange– documents he had never seen before when he hacked once into HELIX's mainframe in their American main building. What he had in his computer was a paper trail between the island and the company.

He wanted to find out more, which meant hacking through the firewalls and security. Again.

_Whatever you do, do not let HELIX catch you._

She had warned him in the hidden cipher. He hadn't seen her for almost a year. Absolutely no contact. He would only get a daily message from her on his smartphone since the day he was told by her colleagues that she needed to stay at work after they've made some breakthrough. Then one day, she came out of the blues, handing him a little message.

And that was it.

The warning was...uncanny. And this time, it was a cipher. Like how they used to play years ago...

If he had to guess, HELIX was doing something bad. Maybe like what he discovered from hacking into TRICELL's database and looking up articles about Umbrella.

Did that mean...she was in danger? Were they all in danger?

_Calm down. Don't get ahead of yourself,_ he told himself.

He decided. Risk a second breakout.

He opened up the program again. He could run a few heuristic data crawlers–

_Knock, knock!_

He froze, tense fingers above the keys. It came from the front door. He heard it click and swing open.

_No... He made sure he wouldn't be found..._

"Hey, Randy. You home?"

He relaxed but hastily shut off the old, outdated laptop and carefully hid it under the floorboards of his bedroom. He quickly hurried out and met his red-haired visitor at the hallway. "Heya!"

"Whoa, what's with the fire?" His tall friend casually smirked. "What'd you been up to?"

"Oh, you know." He glanced back to his bedroom door. "Just checking emails. Got a couple of spam."

His friend frowned understandably. "Yeah, real annoying. Most of my inbox were cramped with coupons and enlargement pi– uh, ahem, I mean weird stuff."

"You're free today?" Randy rolled around, trying to purposely draw his friend away from the door.

"Yeah. Work ended early. So we can continue on with that mission. I'm ready if you are."

"Cool! Oh, I managed to unlock a new weapon too yesterday!" He tried his best not to fake his enthusiasm. Then again, he was very excited to tell him that. "The special M15 rifle!"

Green eyes bugged wide. "Get out!" His friend watched him nod. "How did you get that?"

"Wasn't too hard. Found a few Easter eggs that led me to it. I can show you for your avatar."

"Thanks, bud," his friend uttered. "Oh. What's for dinner later?"

"Tacos. They got the shells imported this week."

"Sweet. I'll help out."

He was given a pat on the back as the laidback man headed to the living room to set up the game station for them.

He was happy. He wasn't scared anymore, having expected men in black to barge through the bungalow's door and seize him. But the redhead, he was one of her colleagues, a new face who came last year.

Again, he stared back at his bedroom door.

He'd have to do his research another time. Maybe give one or two days until the heat died out inside the network.

"Randy, you coming? Starting off without you."

"Hey, wait up!"

The fifteen-year-old boy hurried into the living room.

* * *

><p><em>29 May 2006, 5:12 A.M.<em>

_El Delmor, Brazil._

The early orange rays seeped across the beautiful Amazon forest, cracking at the dark blue sky. Morning light was slowly streaming over the coastal city of El Delmor but it wasn't enough yet to stir the lively people of Brazil after another night of the Carnival.

The docks, however, were paid to do the morning shift without tiredness and delay.

Claire peered over a pile of crates. It was easy to get past the front gates thanks to the portentous radio speaker motivating a few officers there to cheer for Brazil for a winning goal in Spain, but difficult sneaking into the shipping area of El Delmor. Which was suspicious. Why need high-level security in a Brazilian shipyard and only at one cargo ship, the _Titancrest_ Line?

"Are you sure this ship will take us to this island?"

She looked over her shoulder. Behind her squatted Rebecca, wearing just as smart-causal as she was but with a different taste – then again, she didn't give Rebecca a chance to grab a change of clothes like herself. A simple band shirt, khaki pants and a light vest. Only her old STARS boots and the BSAA pouch belt were military standards. Claire had guessed being put on the spot after their call, Rebecca also grabbed whatever she felt was important but kept it light.

When they met at El Delmor's airport, Claire took her the story. That she was hacked in, was given a ton of documents about the most powerful company in the world – well-known to everyone for their charitable efforts to save lives – plotting to create a dangerous virus and was told that 8,000 people and more were trapped on an island against their will.

An island that didn't even remotely exist, no matter how hard she and Rebecca searched on every known online atlas.

Claire could easily read the disbelief from Rebecca's confused face. It was outrageous, baffling to hear HELIX Foundations was going to possibly be a repeat of Umbrella.

"You know that sounds crazy," Rebecca had outright said that.

The only one information she didn't tell her was about Steve.

No one, but Claire and Chris, knew the full story about what happened on Rockfort Island. Leon, of course, knew later on because of an investigation involving a drug dealer, tied together with the Veronica virus in 2002. Sadly, as much as she had hoped that Leon could be able to find something under the rocks, he found no clue to link to Steve's whereabouts.

She wasn't sure why. Maybe she didn't want to get her hopes up again too much. Even after seeing the photo. Not yet until she was face to face with Steve.

The photo could have been taken before Steve was captured and taken to Rockfort Island... Maybe the voice could have known Steve from way before. Or had information but never met Steve in person.

She just...didn't want to be too hopeful only to later have that hope shattered again. Experience thought her that.

Claire was then asked, "Have you told TerraSave about this? This sounds too big for just the two of us to handle."

She answered back she had forwarded the email back to her boss.

After getting her answer, Rebecca had crossed her arms. "And you want us to get a head-start? Take care of the situation long enough till everyone arrives to the island?"

Claire nodded.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and sighed. "I don't like the idea. But I've been meaning to take some time-off from R'n'D for a while. Fine. Chris is going to kill me for this."

"Don't worry. I'll just say I forced you to come."

"Nope. Not convincing enough."

Two hours later, they drove down to the docks. And now here they were.

"This ship is supposed to set sail across the Atlantic Ocean to Singapore, delivering medicine for HELIX's new building over there," Claire explained. "The documents had this line's name in them."

"Yeah but that doesn't guarantee that we'd be stumbling onto this Cape Inacio."

"No, but it belongs to HELIX. And it's the only shipping line partnered with them to go across the Atlantic. It's better than nothing."

"Oh, I really hope you're right because we'll be ending up in Singapore if you're not."

She shrugged with a smile. "Least you get to see the merlion over there... Just need to get on board as quietly as possible."

One quick look at the crew and the people in charge of hurling the cargo onto the boat took her it wasn't Pardo employees. It was a mix of different races, men and women wearing identical logoed jackets and caps, paid under HELIX to keep a tight schedule and maintenance. Also meant they had a tighter check on identification.

"So what's the plan?" Rebecca asked.

Claire noted the open hatch at the starboard. Small crates were being hand-carried into there.

No ID checks.

"Disguise as the crew and climb on board. We'll have to hide in the lower deck to get away from any ID check-ups." Luck must have been on their side on that day because she spotted some through the window of a nearby office, hung by a coatrack inside. She smiled to herself, remembering the little acts she did back in Paris, 1998.

"Claire?"

She wheeled back.

"These crates aren't pharmaceutical drugs." Rebecca had peeked under a burlap blanket over the crates. "They're food supplies. All sorts of supplies. The kind you bring to towns preparing for dangerous storms."

"So?" She wasn't following. "HELIX has done a lot of volunteer work for disaster areas across the world."

"Yes, but you just said this ship's heading to Singapore. Few BSAA members from the SEA branch are stationed there and they told me it's going to be the dry season soon. So...who's getting these supplies?"

They glanced back at the crates.

"The island." Claire looked around. She hadn't realized it until now, seeing the familiar supplier logo on most of every box around them.

Enough to help 8,000 people on a single island.

"She was right."

A yell from the other side of the dock yanked at their instincts to duck back down. A manager, pushing his employees to work faster.

"Come on. We have to hurry."

Stealthily, they kept themselves hidden between the containment units until they reached to the trailer. No one was inside the common room so carefully, Claire slid open the glass panel and pulled out the jackets and caps.

The two women hid their firearms away and tossed on their jackets. Caps on, lowered to their eyes.

"Grab those," Rebecca pointed at a few small crates.

The words, 'supply kits', were printed across the white clean labels. Claire didn't refuse. If they were going out to sea and without meeting any crew members, they could use the kits. Bunker downstairs on cans, packages and stored water for a while.

Hands on the crates, the two marched on, keeping away from any wandering eyes and staying quiet. Just act calm and surely, the plan would work.

_Click!_

The cold sound of a handgun was very close to Claire's ears. Coming from her right.

"Don't move."

* * *

><p><strong><span>Playable Characters<span>**

**Claire Redfield**

_White Bishop_

**_Date of Birth: _**1979

**_Age:_** 27

**_Blood Type:_** O

**_Gender:_** F

_**Race/Nationality:**_ Caucasian/American

_**Occupation:**_ TerraSave member

_**Teammate Class:**_ Field Agent

_**Weapons of Choice:**_

Melee – Combat Knife

Primary – Handgun (TerraSave standard)

Secondary – SMG

_**Stats:**_

Strength: ***

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ***

Wits: ****

Speed: ****

Endurance: **

**Ability:**

*****/*/*/*****

**Rebecca Chambers**

_White Pawn_

**_Date of Birth:_** 1980

_**Age:**_ 26

_**Blood Type:**_ AB

_**Gender:**_ F

_**Race/Nationality:** _Caucasian/American

_**Occupation:** _BSAA member, R'n'D

**_Teammate Class:_ **Medic

**_Weapons of Choice:_**

Melee – Stun Baton

Primary – Handgun (BSAA standard), Flame Spray

Secondary – Tranquilizer Rifle

**_Stats:_**

Strength: ***

Stamina: **

Accuracy: ****

Wits: ***

Speed: ***

Endurance: **

**_Ability:_**

* * *

><p>Vickie: Ello all and we have Chapter One up. The start before a chess game that's about to begin. I originally had wanted to cut this story into 12 or 13 chapters but also decided I didn't want to write too long chapters too (keeping at bout 6000 to 7000 words at beast) and this is a very long story. So in retrospect, if this was a game, there would be estimated 12 long game chapters, consisting objectives you, the player will have to do. Of course, I'm not going to make this as broken as RE6 storyline's consistency was. So this chapter would be considered as the beginning cutscenes of the 1st game chapter. I would say at the point Claire and Rebecca tries to stowaway onboard is considered gameplay but I'm not too sure if that should be the case because you are not fighting zombies yet. Dun see this as a stealth mission either because you'd have to get on the boat without ever using guns until you reach the island. And stealth missions are more up Ada Wong's alley. So, eeeeeh, this is just an if. Probably just all cutscenes for this part.<p>

Onwards. I can imagine this whole story as a four-player game like Resident Evil: Operation: Raccoon City and Dead Island, but you'd be switching between characters a lot between game chapters. You the player, can choose which character you want to pick within the team in each game chapter and will experience that character's situations. Your team probably can end up being split into two, giving 2 different smaller story arcs until the team meets back together to continue on. More diversity in the missions you get.

Within a team, it'd always be four slots and balanced: normally, you'd be part of a team with two fighters, one tank and one backup (usually being a medic or a character in a support class). Now if say, there was a mission mode rather than a story mode, I can actually picture it going like Evolve where you, the players, can freely pick any playable characters within your team and must complete a team mission. Relatively speaking...

And if a game, no quick-time events. I dun care. Unless they are programmed well to be sync to the controls, I will never want to see QTEs in this game. Never... I still carry wounds from Tomb Raider (fawking...ending...stupid...QTE...died...14 times...all because of a fawking specs...)

Ahem. Also every time I introduce a playable character in each chapter, I'll write down their game stats and abilities below, what type of teammate they are, etc, pros and cons. Choice of weapons are default weapons for the AI but like any Resident Evil games, you, the player can change the weapons to your liking. Classes are ranged from: assault, operative, medic, support, recon, marksman, field scientist, interference and a few more I've not listed down or thought about. Oh and explosives, well, pretty much that's default to everyone. Mainly most, if not all, consumables are RE-standards like hand grenades, flash grenades, etc. Primary weapons range from handguns, magnums, taser guns (yes you get tasers, ammo for this are special batteries, one battery giving a couple of shots) while secondary weapons range from shotguns, submachines, assault rifles, and sniper rifles. Melee will always be a special melee specific to the character.

On to explaining the stats. Stats here do not mean it will affect your shooting and fighting because those are a major part of RE mechanics. It'd be stupid to affect that and lead players into an early death. Stats affect pretty much everything else: strength is how long it takes to do physical labour such as pushing open a heavy duty door or bashing your shoulder to open a locked door (annnd I can hear the groans of players who hate button mashing), stamina is how many bars your health has (it varies for other characters, most standard characters have three stars) and how quick your health bars recover, accuracy is of course gun accuracy (some characters are not experienced shooters like Claire and Rebecca), wits is how easy working on puzzles such hacking electronics or picklocking (even password input like in ZombiU), speed is speed, how fast you move around and endurance is how much damage the character takes (taking in consideration if wearing armoured vests and such). Stats you see for each character are default stats but will be improved by skills (which is from RE6 but there are a few I see that is irrelevant). Now as a player, you don't have to spend a lot on each character. Once you unlock a skill, that skill will apply for whichever character you play in each game episode regardless.

Lastly, survival abilities. These pretty much affect the gameplay like recovery rate or inventory slots, being decoy, etc. Each character has about three abilities: a personal and two team abilities, like what you saw above: Claire having a Rally ability to get allies motivated and increasing damage while Rebecca has her Field Medic ability to effectively heal teammates better. I've not figured out all of the survival abilities but it's getting there...slowly. So please note that the stats and abilities you see above for Claire and Rebecca may get updated as I perfect them.

One more thing before I end my game speech here is that this kind of game, I would not expect it to be a fast-paced game like RE6 (I personally felt the gameplay pace was pushing the players too hard, especially when they are given quick-time-events. GAH!). I'd like it to be a little like Resident Evil: Revelations. Keep to the horror, slow pace at the beginning and when crisis comes, then slowly pick up the speed. Give players more time to explore, more time to plan their attacks, etc. Difficulty is on survival (careful consumption of ammo, herbs), you're not only surviving with what you can find but also, if you play this as multiplayer or singleplayer with AI control, you are surviving as a group like Left 4 Dead. You can only survive by benefiting on others' skills just as they benefit on your skills.

Btw, if you guys noticed, I'm not gonna dwell in the romance section. Sorry. :D I'm a pure survival horror gamer. Additionally, I'm more into realistic character interactions than stereotypical directions. So you won't be seeing catfights, fistfights, making the damsel in distress fall hopelessly in love for the bad boy, whichever. I don't write something that doesn't work for character interactions and emotions. So if you're expecting this to be like any RE romance fanfic, then I'm sorry, this isn't what you're looking for, regardless which pairing interaction I put in (for example, just because you see Claire and Steve, doesn't mean I'm gonna write a bedroom scene to satisfy your fan needs). I'll only write romance if the situation calls for it but it won't be the main focus of this story.

Besides, has there ever been a legit romance in the RE verse? ._. As far as I've seen, it's pretty much been just good interactions, not, "Hey babe, let's hop into bed and drink the champagne". What's more, WHO HAS TIME TO BE IN LOVE WHEN YOU HAVE A ZOMBIE OUTBREAK! ? Maybe when you're in a safehouse or out of a crisis but REALLY! ?

...Ok there was that weird love story in RE6...again was weird in my opinion. I was amazed the writers went down that route.

Anyway, enough bragging from me. I hope you enjoy chapter 1. :) Please r'n'r! Also again, I still have one more question that needs to be answered in my help post (link is in prologue) so I really hope you can answer that. If not, then well, I'll just go around it like I did on the question bout Rebecca.

Btw, if you think that Rebecca joining the BSAA and working there in 2006 isn't a plausible outcome for her, please let me know. I have decided to put that in to finish chapter 1 but if you guys have better theories about her character, I wouldn't mind hearing. As I mentioned in my help post, Rebecca has been a difficult character for me to put in both the story and the game (but I also need a medic type character too). I can still rewrite her if you guys think otherwise.

Thanks again and enjoy.

PS. Question...Did I get Steve's eye color rite? 0-0;

PSS. I'd like to thank the guest for this fanfic's very first review. :) Thank you very much.


	3. Chapter Two: The Fortunate Islands

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Fortunate Islands<strong>

* * *

><p>SHE COULD SMELL THE HINT OF GUNPOWDER. Cleaning lubrication. Maintained well but not fired recently. Claire's eyes slowly veered to the corners, spying the corkscrewing hole of the barrel.<p>

Gripping the handle tight with leather gloves was a well-fit man in his late twenties. Caucasian. Dark hair in a fauxhawk style. Tight zippered shirt, simple pants, outdoor shoes. She noted the shoulder holster under the open vintage cotton jacket, the four pockets puffy with perhaps ammo cartridges. No badge in sight.

A wide smirk. Confident amber eyes. Professional body stance.

"Hello, Gorgeous."

New York. Accent was a dead giveaway.

"Now, I'm not here to hurt you."

The man reached out an open palm to her, the other still on the trigger.

"Just need to borrow that jacket and cap off you. We both know that before you scream for help, I'd have to knock your lights out." She could feel his glance quickly move down her legs and then back up, not enough time for her to drop the crate and reach for her gun. "I don't want to do that to a nice-looking lady like you."

_Click!_

"Drop your weapon!"

The man frowned with a rise of his hands, feeling Rebecca's gun at the hairline. He never saw her circle around covertly.

"Hands in the air!"

It was a familiar voice, one Claire knew all too well.

The man's partner had scuffled into the scene, his weapon pointing at Rebecca. Rebecca made the mistake at turning back to the second man. The first swiftly wheeled round, his free hand seizing her gun out of hers.

"Leon?"

The second man's grip on the gun relaxed. Just a bit. He stared, mouth agape at Claire.

Nothing has changed about this man. Still the dirty-blond-haired government agent, prepared for any worst-case scenarios. Just like the first man, he was dressed to be ready for the field: buttoned shirt, collar open and his typical leather jacket to hide his shoulder holster with sleeves neatly rolled up because of the Brazilian heat. Canvas pants and leather shoes.

"Claire?"

The eyes of both the first man and Rebecca bugged wide.

"Wait, you two know each other?"

Leon ignored his partner. "What are you doing here?"

Claire just smirked. "I should be asking you the same question."

"_Leon, what's going on?_"

A mechanical voice resounded in Leon's ears, one the girls didn't hear. Once he gave a nod of OK to his partner, all guns lowered. The other man returned back Rebecca's gun, only to have it snatched away from her and be given a glower. Leon reached out a hand to his earbud. "Just an old friend."

The old grumpy voice of a man was on the other end via the comms spoke out. "_And pray tell why an old friend of yours is doing at the docks?_"

Leon turned back to Claire, his face stern. "Why are you here?"

"If I have to guess, the same thing you're after. Cape Inacio?"

Leon's eyes widened.

Yup, confirmed.

"Wait. You're the girl who got contacted by the hacker?" the other man uttered.

Claire looked with puzzlement. Contacted? The only person who has ever contacted her in the last twenty-four hours was...

It clicked in her head. And she didn't like where this was going.

"You _know_. The email I got."

Leon fought the urge to unprofessionally facepalm himself and just gave a small shake of disappointment at his partner's loud mouth.

He kept his glance firm against the angry daggers he was receiving from Claire. "Claire, you shouldn't be here. You need to get out of here before you two are spotted."

Claire scowled even more. She wasn't going to get her answers. How they knew, how the government knew that she was given one particular email and only that one. Guess some people weren't paranoid after all, claiming the government was checking in on everyone's emails and phone calls.

"No._** I**_ got that email. There is no way I'm backing out after hearing about this island."

"This is outside TerraSave's jurisdiction," the other man exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter. TerraSave should already have the email by now. Now explain. Why are two government agents trying to stowaway on a HELIX's cargo ship?"

"Claire, this is a lot bigger than you think-"

"I already know about HELIX's virus. That there are people on that island," Claire huffed at Leon, glaring progressively at him. "We are not going anywhere but on that boat, Leon. And if you won't let us, then we're leaving without you."

"_ENOUGH!_"

The voice was loud and strong, piercing through the eardrums of the two men. Leon could hear the frustration seeping through the earpiece.

"_Put me through with your friend._"

Reluctantly, Leon complied and signalled his partner to hand over two spare earbuds.

"Who am I speaking to?" Claire demanded after nicking one. She mentally prepared herself for an earshot from some government official.

"_Jared Blackwell. NCIS._"

Ok, she did not expect to get someone like that on the line.

"_Now, I don't have time to be calling up TerraSave to ask why one of their members is over there. NCIS already has enough rope being hung by DSO over this case. And we're going to be late the longer this stupid argument keeps on going._"

The voice was right. Shouts from far away told the four that the crew was packing up soon.

"_I have a feeling you're capable of handling high-risk crisis if you know Leon well enough. So you can tag along, provided that Special Agents Kennedy and Daken keep an eye on you. __**No **__vendettas._"

She bit her lip. Great, being babysat. Not what she was hoping for.

Then again, with two more means of firepower, it could go a lot smoother than compared to her little vigilante adventures long ago. However, she didn't know or trust the new guy, Daken.

Leon, she could. They've been through a lot, whether or not it was fate playing at them to meet like this.

"_I want you boys and girls to play nice. Do I make myself clear?_"

"Alright." Also if she said no, she had a feeling this guy on the line might do something drastic. His voice told her that he wasn't deaf but seasonally experienced. It felt like she was facing Director Hopkins all over again. With military background.

"_Good, Leon can brief you up to speed once you're aboard. For now, __**get on that ship**__._" The last sentence was an order. 'Move it or lose it' kind of approach.

"I don't like this," the other agent honestly said. "First the navy and now we letting civilians on this mission. Sounds like a very risky thing to do."

"For your information, I work under BSAA," Rebecca hollered irritatedly.

"Really? And why is a BSAA member coming along too?"

"Vince," Leon called out. "Believe me when I say that these two are a lot more experienced than civilians. C'mon."

"Ok, but if these two are with us, how are we getting any disguises?"

"Your plan?" Claire asked Leon.

The blond shrugged with a smile, admitting it. "You beat me to the punch."

"Well, then in that case, we can help you boys out."

* * *

><p>The boss was yelling at his loudest for the day. The schedule was pushed forward by an hour surprisingly and at the very last minute. Workers had to get all the cargo on as quickly as possible so that <em>Titancrest<em> could be sailing off by seven.

Supply kits were still needed to be loaded up. Two employees were enough for that task alone while the rest went to load the rest of HELIX's medicine boxes.

"Wheet-whoot!"

The two workers turned to the sound of a whistle. Waving at them down the end of a lane between containment units were two grinning ladies. Their faces were immediately unrecognizable.

One worker was suspicious. "Hey, do you work here?"

The women didn't answer. Just disappeared behind the ends.

The personnel trailed down the lane. "This is private property!"

No answer.

"Call for secur–"

It went all too fast. They couldn't respond in time against the swinging elbows to their faces. They were then quickly grabbed from the side, one body to the right and one to the left. Arms wrapped around their necks, cutting off the circulation until the poor saps lost themselves into consciousness.

Leon and Vince moved the men to a safe, hidden blind spot.

"They'll be knocked out for a few hours. Won't be long once they learn about us stowaways," Vince exclaimed, tossing over a jacket.

"We'll deal with that when it happens. Jared, we're heading inside," Leon spoke through the comms.

"_Leon._"

This time was a woman's. A familiar one.

"Read you, Hannigan."

"_Once you're on board, all that metal will mess up reception," _Ingrid Hannigan, Leon's government contact, explained._ "You won't hear from us until you're about to find another form of telecommunications. You'll be alone out there._"

"Got it. Adding comms onto the list of things to find." The four hurried to the supply kits, each seizing one into their grasp.

"_MTAC has the ship on radar. We'll follow you on this end as much as we can. If we don't hear from you in the next seventy-two hours, we'll send in the Calvary,_" he heard the NCIS officer speak out.

"You'll hear from us in a day."

"_And Leon?_" Jared's voice hung in a pause. The serenity was slowly breaking. "_Get them out alive... You hear me?_"

Leon had stopped in his tracks. Claire noticed that.

There was a sense of responsibility, also put heavily on his shoulders. She could tell there was some kind of connection between the two men through the comms, one she wasn't sure of the details of but it was there.

Why was an NCIS official asking a lot out of him...

"...Will do, Gunnery."

It was a light promise. She could read it in his body that he too wasn't sure if he could keep it. But he had to try.

He turned back to them, the confidence back in his face. "Ready?"

Three nods back. Then out into the open, in a single file, hands on supply kits. Just keep calm and don't give eye contact. Easy said than done– Rebecca was holding her breath as they made their way to the side hatch. One worker was beside their own means of boarding on, with a checklist, clipboard and a pen in hands.

The employee spotted the supply kit boxes, marked down on the list and gave them a quick nod of approval, his attention then turning to a bunch of fragile boxes at the left end. "Hey, hey! Be careful with that!"

Two agents, one TerraSave member and a BSAA medic were in.

"Excuse me, coming through," an Asian woman slipped past them from behind and hurried up the stairs inside. They however, went down deeper.

"Just like old times?" Claire asked Leon.

"Like old times."

* * *

><p>Vince Daken glanced around. No workforces and guards roaming around the cargo hold. That was good. From what he had heard from outside three hours ago, the ship had departed, which meant the crew was focusing on the upper deck. Thirty minutes later, ruckus. This probably meant the two workers he and Leon knocked out had either woken up or been found and a warning message was sent to the <em>Titancrest<em>. Men swept across the decks but their search was amateur level. An hour more, the commotion died out. Could mean they found nothing 'suspicious' on board and sent back a reply that it could still be at the docks.

It had been a roller coaster but he was surprised they managed to pull this off.

"All clear," he muffled, returning back to their secret hiding place. "Heat's blown off for the time being."

"Any word from your informant?" his partner asked.

"Nope. But it's not like I can go up to her now. Could blow her cover too."

"I see. Any way of contacting her?"

"Would be the same situation we're in now. Metal hulls." Vince pointed at the grey sides with his thumb. "It's either I go snooping around during the workers' next break or I find her once we reach land."

"We should stay low for now. We don't know how tight their ID checks are now that they got wind of trespassers."

"Aye-yi, captain," he joked and kept a stiff grin even when Leon didn't join in. Always a tough crowd since he partnered with him.

The two ladies, however, had been tense and quiet the whole time, keeping a watchful eye as much as they can.

But that didn't mean everyone knew each other completely, other than to their own partners.

"Um, right. This is Vince Daken. And I'm Leon Kennedy."

During the disorder, introductions had gone out the window.

"Sorry about earlier. Just doing my job, Miss...?"

"Claire Redfield," she said towards Vince. "And she's Rebecca Chambers."

"Rebecca," Leon repeated. "You work with Chris."

"You know Chris?" The young short-haired woman was surprised to hear Chris's name from another stranger.

Leon nodded. "Just as well as I know Claire. You were involved with the mansion incident, right?"

The calm face Rebecca had been keeping on softened. Leon's unintentional prying opened up an old wound. "Yes... You were in Raccoon City?"

Leon nodded nostalgically. They shared that same wound, only different circumstances. "I was a police officer then. I met Claire when it happened."

"I see."

Silence leeched onto the atmosphere of the cargo hold, rigid with the stench of metal and medication. Three survivors from the worst incident in humanity's history, remising to their tender encounters of the past. Now, they were on their way to where possibly another outbreak could be taking placed at any time, or worst possible scenario, be released upon the world.

Vince, the only oddball out of the 1998 incident, felt the nervous need to break it.

"Ahem. Sorry to break this reunion but we have matters to press on?"

Leon agreed with a nod and shook off the remorseful rigidity inside him. "No doubt you have questions."

Claire crossed her arms at the reminder. "I'd like to know why the government was **_so _**interested in an email I got."

"It's not so much the email. It's who sent it to you."

"And you know who the person is."

"Yes. Anónimo."

Claire was instantly stunned. No, a better word would be shocked. The name, it was notorious. Well-known only within the confined spaces of the Internet. Comically dubbed as "The Peter Pan of the Net" in several forums.

She never pieced the puzzle together that it would be _that_ person. Yes, she was hacked. But the name never crossed her mind before.

"The masquerade hacker?"

"The one and only," Vince uttered.

Anónimo, the masquerade hacker. An uncatchable, unstoppable force inside the wide web. Almost every agency was after his head, even TerraSave. From what she'd heard, their database was hacked in and various types of information were targeted. After that, online security had been upgraded.

"No real name. No identity," Leon explained. "Absolutely nothing about this person other than the alias and his activities. Only surfaced in 2000 and hacked into over a dozen protected databases since then. He's been under the radar ever since."

"I've heard that name before. There were rumours about someone hacking into BSAA's databank," Rebecca pointed. "Twice."

"TerraSave was cyber-attacked last year," Claire added. "Could it be the same guy?"

"If you couldn't find any clues back then, then it had to be Anónimo. It's impossible to find him, let alone his IP address," Vince exclaimed. "Anónimo's activity used to be infiltrating precious data, stealing millions of dollars and making cyber-attacks in the past but as of recent, there's been evidence of him being involved in bioterrorism. The list goes on and on for this hacker."

"Seriously?" Rebecca gasped.

"There have been some connections with the Iraq war happening now and even conspiracies behind a couple of incidents. Like the Queen Zenobia Incident. The kidnapping of the President's daughter, which our hero so singlehandedly saved the day for her." Vince chirpily directed his eyes at Leon. "One dangerous man this Anónimo is."

Claire's gut feeling pricked again. A person with such a dangerous reputation, using the wide web as his domain, his power – perhaps gathering data like dangerous viruses and selling it off to potential buyers – would indeed be top priority to stop.

But...was that the same person she 'met' on her laptop?

She couldn't call that a human. More like some sort of character from a 90s game. Although there was no emotion when Anónimo 'spoke' to her, what Anónimo 'asked' of her was a pleading request.

Moreover, it was _she_ who was given the data of another virus. She was _shown_ evidence. And that didn't make any sense.

Could it be a trap by a cyber-genius instead? But for what purpose? She has never crossed paths with Anónimo till now.

"Ok. So what does this Cape Inacio have to do with this hacker?" she asked.

"We were given new information NCIS found through a case of theirs," Leon took over the conversation. "Their MTAC was also hacked five years ago. But Anónimo made a mistake and MTAC was about to pinpoint his last known location: in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Now the location, there's no known piece of land so NCIS heavily investigated on this. Until they were stonewalled by HELIX Foundations," Vince hummed. "Lawyers made a very convincing argument that the navy had no reason to look over the _Titancrest_'s routes."

"Several months back, NCIS joined together with DSO once they found out that there was another link to HELIX – a number of missing people over the last eleven years. Nearly 10,000 in total. And some were scientists."

The girls immediately saw the connection. "Scientists hired to develop a virus," Claire stated and she was given a nod.

Leon slipped out his phone, a special brand fit for an agent like himself and hit the buttons before passing it over to Claire. Rebecca peered over her shoulder. "This is a list of those names. The scientists are at the top. All specialized in medical, bioscience and biotech degrees. And every one of those people on that list shared the same story HELIX explained – they unfortunately passed away in some accident. Families have also been given settlements."

"That sounds too much of a coincidence. Hasn't HELIX been investigated on this?" Rebecca asked.

"Not enough evidence to link them," Leon groaned. "HELIX only admits that they did indeed hire the employees before they went missing and they were in 'condolence' over the losses. Hence, the settlements."

"If it's just employees, then who are these other names?"

"Close family members of those employees. Probably moving homes together."

"Why are they considered missing?" Claire asked.

"A lot of those deaths were registered from boat accidents and overseas. There was never any recovery of any body as well. _That_ is too much of a coincidence."

It was a vague answer. Claire had darted her eyes back and forth from the list, noting the change in Leon's voice.

She was about to point that out, meddle more reasons out of him as to why a number of people, presumed dead, was now presumed missing–

"McLenlan?"

The name was listed in the 459th line.

Iria McLenlan.

"Yes." Surprise tinted Leon's voice and only to that name. "That's one of the scientists. Do you know her, Claire?"

She didn't answer straight away. Personally, she didn't. She only heard of the name from the audio file. "No."

"Wait!" Rebecca suddenly grabbed the phone with the brightest air of disbelief. "As in the McLenlan sisters! ?"

Vince's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that like a name of some famous singing group?"

"Rebecca, do you know her?" Claire persisted.

"No. Only from my professors. But they were very well-known back then and even in the bioscience industry." Rebecca gave a nervous laugh once she noticed all eyes were on her for her sudden outburst. "You could say they were my idols. One of the reasons why I picked biochemistry. I even picked the same college they attended."

"You looked up to them, huh?"

Rebecca nodded. "Carme and Iria McLenlan. I heard more about Carme though, being renowned in biological sciences, genetic studies and psychology combined. She was the most brilliant out of the two, making and proving mindblowing theories." The beam on her face however faded. "But...I heard she passed away years ago. A lot of people said it was a very tragic loss for the medical world."

Claire pressed on more out of curiosity. "What about Iria?"

"Like Carme but more on virology. I heard that she had improvised many vaccines like the influenza."

"And this Iria McLenlan was hired by HELIX? Guess she's a potential evil scientist."

Rebecca frowned angrily at the dark-haired special agent. But the frown twisted to uncertainty as she glanced back at the name.

"What? We had crazy people-in-white creating the t-virus back in the 90s. And so on. Wouldn't surprise me if she turns out to be like them."

Was that the case? Claire wasn't sure to agree with Vince.

The woman in the audio file was begging her to get help. And she knew Steve somehow.

Belief and doubt was on Claire's lap altogether but there was nothing to jump to conclusions. The answers were on Cape Inacio. And she knew that if it was anything like Rockfort Island, getting them would be hard.

"We were able to find some information about an island under HELIX's name, thanks to my informant. No doubt their personal "island of Doctor Moreau"," Vince emphasized the term with causal twitching of two fingers. "But that wasn't enough to break the ice until Anónimo's next cyber-attack."

"The email."

"Yup. And that was after it was decided that the two of us should do a little recon. If we couldn't get more details out of HELIX, then we might as well get more out of this phantom island. With NCIS's cooperation, of course. That guy on the line didn't sound too happy about it," he continued with a roll of his eyes.

Leon, however, was indifferent. Which was strange to Claire. Wouldn't he agree with Vince how problematic it was doing cooperation between two different agencies?

"Anónimo was just the excuse we needed. Although, if that hacker contacted you, I don't doubt NCIS agents have seized your computer by now. With a warrant."

Claire narrowed her eyes at Vince. Great, a broken door and her house invaded...something to look forward to after this trip.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, it's just following protocol. Everyone's on edge about this one hacker."

"Once we get to the island, we'll need to know more about the situation there. And if there really are people, even hostages, saving them will have to be the highest priority. Contacting the navy is next," Leon pointed.

"You two aren't going to be wandering off on your own businesses, right?"

Claire was almost going to say no to Vince. Almost. She stopped herself because it was more of a half-lie.

Instead, Rebecca answered for her. "Of course not. This might be another Rockfort incident. And if what you said is true, there could be families in danger."

The TerraSave side in her agreed with Rebecca. The other was willing to drop everything just to confirm something else. To be absolutely sure she wasn't being fooled again.

To know the one she had lost...was indeed on that island.

She coughed to shake off the disturbing idea of sacrificing over 8,000 people for 1. "I don't know why Anónimo contacted me. But there's no way we can just sweep this one under the rug."

It was also a vague answer. She could feel Leon's stare steady on her, swooshing in to pluck at any sign of untruth.

He let it go. "Vince, see if you can't call HQ again. They should at least know we're doing fine before we lose complete range."

Vince tightened his eyes with a rise of an eyebrow. His lip curled, as though to call Leon out on his thinly veiled bluff, but he turned to leave.

Rebecca tensed on her seat, noting the seeping silence hung between Leon and Claire. On the spot, she could tell this was one talk she shouldn't be involved. "I'm...going to check out the kits. See what we can bring along."

The stillness still stood even after their partners left for their individual tasks.

"You know," Claire broke the silence. "NCIS only deals with crime against or by the navy. You haven't fully explained why they are so fully invested on this one, Leon."

Leon leaned backwards, now crossing his arms back at her. "And you never fully explained yourself why you're going to the island."

"I have my reasons."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I know that face." Eyes squirted on her unhappily. "This isn't one of those searches again, is it?"

She almost flinched on the spot. Damn this man and his investigation skills. Though frankly, she also picked them up from him over the years.

"And what if it is?"

Leon heaved a sigh through his nostrils. "Claire–"

"Before you say it, let me say this. I am not going into this one blind... I just want to..." She tried to find the right words. Not enough to give her reason away but the meaningfulness instead. "I want to know this isn't going to another dead end... And if it is...then I'll stop. For good."

This would make the seventh time. And she knew she couldn't go on anymore pointless hunts. At the third, she had decided it would have been the last.

This...this time...this was the last one she would do.

And finally move on...

"What exactly do you expect to find?"

If she was asked that question eight years ago, she would have immaturely given a hopeful answer. Expecting a miracle but back then...that was denying reality.

"...A body..." she admitted to Leon. "A body to bury."

That was what she was hoping for. No, had hoped.

Before the email, she was hoping to find Steve's body and bury him in a nice cemetery, maybe at his hometown. He was dead. He wasn't going to come back. She had already accepted that fact, having gone through the stages of grief months after her loss.

If he did...it would only mean the worst possible outcome.

She didn't want that. To see him come back like that.

She would only be satisfied once she'd find his body and put it to rest.

Away from _that_ man.

"Now you." She turned the tables around. "I noticed it too, Leon. This mission has gotten you rattled."

"I have my reasons," he explained calmly. "Just as you do."

She bit the side of her mouth but decided not to make a comeback. "Fair enough. But I pretty much gave you a hint."

He chuckled, showing off the first signs of age lines. "I owe a friend a favour."

"This Jared, right?"

Leon couldn't hide his smile.

Claire then connected the dots, staring back at the list of names. "...One of these families is Jared's, isn't it?"

The smirk softly vanished.

"...I don't know what to expect from this island. But if this is anything like Rockfort Island..." He stopped himself. If he said what she expected him to say, it would only jinx it.

For all they knew, Jared's family could be...

"I don't want to get his hopes too high. The only problem is–" He stopped again, this time giving a surprisingly cautious look, first checking his earbud as if his friend would be eavesdropping. "He's an incredibly stubborn man." Leon grinned lightly. "...He believes they're still alive."

"I think I know the feeling."

Another pause between the two.

"Claire, I just want to know," Leon started strongly. "Are you going to be OK?"

There wasn't hesitation. Doubt. The gaze he was getting wasn't predictable uncertainty that would affect her focus in this assignment.

"You don't have to worry about me, Leon. This is like any other job."

"Phew!"

Breaking through the steady silence, the petite woman walked into the hiding spot with a few items, some being standard first aid. "It took a while but these should be useful for us. I never expected finding an axe inside those kits too."

Rebecca then noticed the heavy, thick awkwardness.

"Um... Was I interrupting?"

She was given a lot of spontaneous no's from the two. Whatever conversation they had, it had died under the crashing waves outside.

_Oh, this was going to be a long voyage..._ Rebecca thought.

* * *

><p><em>30 May 2006, 4:23 P.M.<em>

_Atlantic Ocean._

A day had passed and the only way of telling time was from the smartphones in the team's possession. Commotion arose from above the steel ceiling, just as loud as that during the ship's departure.

At Leon's order, the four cleared up the hiding spot of any evidence of their presences and carefully climbed out of the lower deck. Their suspicions were confirmed without drawing attention – at the horizontal line of the ocean sat a tiny little archipelago.

Everyone on board was preparing for arrival to one of those islands, the biggest one.

Once preparations were finished, an order yelled out to get ready to haul the cargo out onto a large pier once they docked. A moment later and loud metal thunders told them the anchor had fallen. The four waited a little longer for the opportunity to causally walk out of the side hatch.

"So, what exactly are we expecting once we touch land?"

"If Cape Inacio is like Rockfort Island...a prison camp," Claire answered Vince's question. The voice from the audio had said prisoners were taken there. No doubt the families were locked up too. "And some research lab for the virus. They'll probably have military force too."

Rebecca looked up with worry. "You think we can handle this?"

Leon held in his reply. Nope. This wasn't a rescue mission for one president's daughter. Just a bigger scale, to be frank. "One step at a time."

Another holler from outside and the side hatch opened ajar, daylight slowly creeping through.

"Get ready for anything."

And out they went into the blinding light.

The clear white flare burned to the point Claire was forced to cover her eyes with one hand. Once her vision adjusted to the strong light, she blinked several times confusedly.

_What..._

Her mind took longer to proceed the surroundings than she had hoped. She had been expecting more of a...dead island.

The blue sky reflecting on the cerulean sea.

The shining sun and glittering water.

The gentle breeze and the calm sounds of waves.

This scenery before them was so stunning that it was unimaginable from the private prison island in the Southern Ocean. It shouldn't have existed. But the heat on their skin, the smell of salt and the cawing of seagulls were telling them this was real.

Why... Why was Claire seeing all this?

Rebecca inadvertently released out a gasp, marvelling at the beauty before her. In a world where ruthless corporates' viruses occasionally distorted it many times to grim ugliness, this one little island's existence – untouched by death, chaos and grief – was defying such odds.

"Do all prison camps look this idyllic where you come from?" Vince dryly drawled.

* * *

><p>White sand. Clear ocean water. Palm trees. It was very much different from the grey, lifeless environment of Rockfort Island. What they were seeing before them could be labelled as the perfect Bahamas getaway location for any tourist.<p>

The small team had sneaked off the_ Titancrest_, blending well as part of the crew through the pier they were on – strangely weather-protected and fortressed. Once they were out the docks, they ditched their covers and wandered down the dirt road. Two minutes passing a few warehouses, they found themselves entering a nice community town. Anyone's guess, enough for 8,000 people.

"West Koralo," Rebecca read off a sign. The name of this strange and mockingly-friendly town. Above that sign waved a flag depicting the American flag symbol at one corner and the other side, the symbol of a brightly-colored small bird. A little similar to the Cayman Islands' flag.

No prison walls. No guard towers. Not even barred wire, huge spotlights or BOWs running amok.

"This is so surreal," Claire admitted. It was so alien. Nothing like she'd expected.

She had thought there would be walls imprisoning people, one by one used for sick experiments. There would have been death on the streets. Blood. The dead walking about. But there was none. Instead, there were happy faces and laughter under the loud notes of Cuban music playing from a nearby radio. Faces of civilians freely living a blissful life under the tropical afternoon sun.

The further the four outsiders walked onwards, the more they were seeing types of structures; grocery store, pharmacy, hardware store, clinic, police station, auto shop and many more. The necessities and growth of a town. As far as the eye could see was the ocean of buildings, three-storey apartments and bungalows. Further off the distance into the tropic forest uphill, radio towers.

"Is there really any danger here?" Vince asked quietly. "Doesn't look like anyone's down with an illness or anything."

Maybe the outbreak hasn't happened yet. Claire confined it in herself not to say that.

It was still the 30th of this month. Tomorrow, the 31st, should be the endgame.

"I don't know. But we can't cause panic for these people. The calmer they stay, the better for us," Leon stated.

It was a little harsh but everyone agreed. Especially when it seemed like a majority of the townsfolk was busy.

Since the four first came into town, they've noticed everyone else was retrofitting the buildings. Nailing boards on windows, working on the rooftops and reinforcing doors.

"Well, everyone here looks like they're prep for a storm," Vince said.

"Excuse me."

At a fancy retro diner, named "The Dainty Mermaid" – the sign decorated with an adorable dugong mascot – Claire called out to a woman tending to the windows with each steady whack of a hammer.

The woman wheeled round and beamed. "Oh. Hello. I don't recognize you lot." Australian accent. She stood up and rose out an open hand. "Welcome to Cape Inacio."

Claire shook back. The hand in hers was real. This was no dream she was having. "Thank you. Um, yeah. We just arrived today."

Vince was about to step in, bewildered at the brunette for starting the spilling of beans but Leon stopped him. Better to act causal anyway.

"We don't often get new faces round here. I suppose you also got hired by HELIX to work at the facility."

"Yes." Just play along. "We're looking forward to it. Um, sorry but what's happening here?"

"Oh, right. You wouldn't know. This island has hurricanes every summer. We've all been preparing this week for this year's storm. Weather forecast says it might be the worst one yet in a decade."

Claire fought the urge to groan. A hurricane.

Terrific.

Well, the ship did carry supply kits for storm preparedness. She was just hoping that would come much later in the year, let alone a hurricane.

The woman gave a soft giggle. "You picked the wrong time to start work."

"Could you tell us more about this facility, miss–?"

"Margaret. You can quit the formality, love," she cut Leon short with a stronger laugh. "Everyone here are like close friends. You'll get to know everyone pretty quickly."

"Um, I see. Margaret, could you tell us about the facility?"

"Well, I wouldn't know much about what goes on there. They don't let anyone except employees down at the east. My husband works in security though so he has a better idea. From what I understand, um...the reason for the research facility is because HELIX discovered a variety of natural herbs here and they're cooking up new medicine. Most of the economy here is because of those medications. They should have told you this at the briefings, right?"

"Hey, Marge!" A large middle-aged African-American, partly bald, lightly shaved moustache-beard and wearing what looked like the overalls of a worker at the pier stepped carefully down the ladder. "Roof's done. Should be better than last year–" He had just noticed the new visitors. "Oh, hello."

"Hugh, they just came today. They'll be working over at the facility."

"Pleasure to meet you all." His shake was rough and sturdy to the newcomers but very much welcoming. "Hugh Bernard. It isn't much here but hope you find this place to your liking."

The four had no choice but to introduce themselves too.

This sociable conversation, meeting these new people like Claire had with meeting her next door neighbours back home, it was like she was being ridiculed at.

Was the plea she was sent a joke? Or were these townsfolk playing a trick on her?

All of this was just taunting her.

They had to know, right? About the facility. About the virus. How could they act so causal?

She bit her tongue. _Stay calm._

"I didn't expect a town to be here though," Rebecca said.

"It's been here for eleven years now," Hugh explained. "HELIX wanted their workers to bring families along. Have both work and family together."

The missing people...

"Do you work at the facility?"

"Oh no. My sis does. She's the brainy one in the family. I work at the docks," he chuckled loudly. "I'm surprised to see more hire. We haven't gotten any newcomers since..." He stopped. "The new kid, he came when?"

Margaret shook her head. "You know he doesn't like to be called a kid."

"Well, Iria always calls him Kiddo." He clicked his fingers, trying to figure out something in his head. "It was last year, right? Yeah. A year since we had anyone new come to town."

"Say, about earlier, being there's a hurricane and all," Vince started with a weak laugh. "But shouldn't you be, oh, I don't know, evacuating?"

Hugh returned back a bewildered rise of an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try. Waters round here are too dangerous for most ships to venture out. You came from the _Kharon_, right?" He pointed a finger off to the distance and the four wheeled back, just barely spotting the roof of what seemed like a large ferry. "That's the only ferry in and out. And it's not fast enough to get away from a hurricane."

"There are shelters around town, though. But all of us just head to the pier. Place's built to withstand the storms for us," the Aussie lady explained.

"Announcement will ring before the hurricane hits us. Anyway, there's a motel three blocks away for you all. Make yourself at home till then."

"Yeah. Thank you," Leon said lightly.

The four then continued on their way after the goodbyes, Claire glancing back a glimpse. A young girl, she assumed was about twelve, had exited out of the diner and hurried to Margaret. A daughter. Same age as Sherry was back then..

She felt her insides turn cold.

She truly and silently prayed to God, wherever the hell he was, that there wasn't going to be an outbreak. Or else that little girl by the diner, any other child on this island, was surely going to be as traumatic as Sherry was back in Raccoon City...

Unknown to the new guests, their unexpected arrival had not gone unnoticed. The black, shuttering lens of many security cameras above any line of sight narrowed at the four below.

Within a fraction of a second, the cameras picked up their faces and wirelessly sent them off to the island's network. The computers of a small military bass ran those identities through a database.

No results.

"Call him. We got company."

* * *

><p>"She said east," Leon began.<p>

The crack of the town was only metres away, breaking into the thick jungle with vines, roots and trees twisted about that made it look like a near-impossible feat on foot.

"Hang on." Claire had already drew out her phone and brought out the electronic map. It would prove useful, she told them back on the ship, explaining it was one of the attachments from the email. She had been studying the landmarks for some time, noting eight entrance points and what seemed like the facility near a cresent-shaped lagoon far away. "It's some distance away. May be faster by car."

It was half a good idea, Leon agreed mentally. "It'd draw too much attention though. No choice but to walk to one of those points."

"Yeah. You're up to the task, Rebecca?"

Rebecca wickedly grinned. "Come on, Claire. I may not go on the field as much as you two do but I sure can outrun the two of you."

"Cocky," Leon praised.

"We might need to be extra careful then." The three turned back to the other agent, his attention to a poster on a stoned wall. He stripped it off as they huddled round him.

It was kind of a propaganda poster with the words, "We serve to protect YOU!" and "Jungle Rescue" at the bottom. Three letters boldly conquered most of the spaces, along with sharp cell-shaded designs of body-armoured soldiers in courageous stances.

"HCF," Vince read. "What does that stand for?"

"Host/Hive Capture Force."

Vince and Rebecca turned to Claire with surprise, first at her sudden exclaim and second at her angry face.

She was all too familiar to that name.

Claire grounded her teeth inside her shut mouth. _That_ man's personal army of grunts.

"Leon..."

"Yeah..." The blond tightened his eyes intensely. Reports had told him about this name and only one link to a certain person. "Wesker's here."

The two partners widened their eyes, each with different feelings but still the overall shock.

Of course. The most dangerous man in the world. On this very island.

Rebecca had a hard time believing this since Raccoon City. Granted, she had rarely crossed paths with Wesker within the headquarters of STARS back in the days. That was back then when she was still a rookie and Wesker was a captain.

No one had expected him to turn villain then. He proved them wrong.

"Then this is a lot more serious than we thought. We should contact DSO right away. Get more guys," Vince urged.

Leon glanced up to the faraway radio towers. Right now, the comms through the earbuds were dead. They were too far away to contact anyone without some booster.

Hannigan did say they needed to find an alternative means of communication.

"We better choose then. The facility or the radio towers," he laid out the choices.

"The facility, of course," Claire replied hastily. "It'd take too long for anyone to get here."

"Ok, I give you credit for being brave and fierce but aren't you being crazy to be waltzing over there?" Vince hollered.

"It's only a matter of time before Wesker gets his hands on this virus once it's finished. We should get there before he does."

"And how would you know that?"

"It's Wesker. I bet you on my life he wants this more than anything. Even over the lives of these people!"

"And you want us to take whatever vial they have over there first?"

"Or better yet, destroy it."

"Dear god, this girl is unbelievable," he openly and frightfully admitted, which Claire took no offense to or even accept it as a compliment.

"She's right. The virus's our top priority now," Leon voiced out his concern. "We're going to be making a lot of noise, Claire. Even blind on this one."

"Well. We should get started then."

"Guys?"

Rebecca's call was slowly drowned by the sound of dirt wheels rushing down the open road. Sure enough, they found themselves being quickly surrounded.

With guns.

Four jungle jeeps. About fifteen men wearing black military uniforms, holsters and looking very much unhospitable to the four. Stitched onto the back of each soldier were the letters, 'HCF'.

One of the men, a captain, jumped off the vehicle and approached them. Assault rifle down.

"You _rats_ are far away from home. Any reason why you've wandered off to this island?"

"Taking a vacation?" Vince quietly droned, not loud enough to dare piss off the captain.

No one gave any other answer.

"Quiet lot, aren't you? We can fix that. Sorry this isn't a welcome wagon with coconut drinks and martinis."

Some of the grunts snickered. Others just kept quiet, fingers tight on the triggers.

The odds were stacked against them. Leon mentally counted the trained highly-functional gunmen. Against four. The risk was too high. What was more, in their small group were two women.

Yes, Claire could take care of herself. She has showed that very clear back in the days. But these weren't mindless undead cannibals and like hell, he'd let these men hurt the ladies.

If anything, he could seize one grunt and use him as leverage to give them time to flee.

"Now, come with us. Don't worry. The boss wants you four alive."

"Your boss's Wesker?"

No change in expressions. But Leon knew deep down, it had to be true.

"Eager to meet him, I see? You'll have to wait. He's busy at the moment. Now, drop your weapons. We don't want to draw attention and get civilians involved in a **_gunfight_**."

Oh, that was low.

"You'd kill people on this island? Isn't this town your home?" Rebecca yelled.

The captain laughed even harder. "Oh, please. Those people are just leverage for us to keep the staff in check. If we could, they'd make good target practices for us."

Claire's mind flashed back to the little girl, Margaret and Hugh. She desired to put a bullet in the captain's schmuck face.

They were outnumbered, chained on the spot. Once guns were shot, any by-passer from town would come and get injured during the fire.

Quietly, she and Leon exchanged glances. She read the next objective: surrender quietly. For now. Until they were far enough from innocents.

Unwillingly but with more prodding of the rifles at them, the four stripped off their weapons to the ground.

"Welcome to Cape Inacio," the captain said 'warmheartedly'.

It was only a brief moment coming from her left but the bulk end of another assault rifle launched towards her.

_BAM!_

Darkness quickly swallowed her up. She never had the chance to hear the others call out her name...

* * *

><p><strong>Leon S. Kennedy<strong>

_White Rook_

**Date of Birth:** 1977

**Age:** 29

**Blood Type:** A

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** U.S. Government Agent

**Teammate Class:** Operative/Field Agent

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Survival Knife

Primary – Handgun (Government standard)

Secondary – Shotgun

**Stats:**

Strength: ****

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ****

Wits: ***

Speed: ***

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

TBA

***/*/*/***

**Vince Daken**

_White Pawn_

**Date of Birth:** 1978

**Age:** 28

**Blood Type:** B

**Gender**: M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** U.S. Government Agent

**Teammate Class:** Assault

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Baton

Primary – Handgun (Government standard)

Secondary – Assault Rifle

**Stats:**

Strength: ***

Stamina: ****

Accuracy: ****

Wits: **

Speed: ***

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

TBA

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Head to the Dainty Mermaid.

-Leave West Koralo

* * *

><p>Vickie: I was really hoping that this chapter won't be too long-winded not only because it'd be lame to hear [explanation] all the time but also because I want to jump to the action as soon as possible (sadly that would only start next chapter). Even had planned that each game chapter is about 3 writing chapters so I fear that this 1st game chapter may go long. Granted, if a game, you can go two ways: have a short start and be thrown into the situation well or build up the tension until you reach a certain point where hell is loose. However, I do want my playersreaders/whatever to feel the need to drop their guard down first. This is something I've rarely seen done well, especially at the beginning with the thought, "Oh sure. There are sooo gonna be zombies the moment I step on this island."

Meh, of course, if this was a game, I bet ya the story would be edited than compared to what I wrote. :T

And btw, introducing the fourth playable character (and I do need to make the team number as four per team, as well as being a semi-tank), Vince Daken. Yes, he's an OC. Yes, readers in fanfiction tend to not like OCs. But really, I've seen a lot of you guys go excited over Jake Mullers and Piers. ALL CHARACTERS ARE BASICALLY OCS! Just see any OC I write as playable character. And not some pointless one that serves no purpose (I've seen those in some games, especially Kidman in Evil Within. I'm sorry but I just HATE the fact that one character DOESN'T FAWKING CARRY A GUN in a game where everyone's LIVES depends on SHOOTING).

Additionally, a head's up. Any character that is given a description, that's a playable character for you, as a player, to choose during each game chapter. So you can guess, Hugh the big guy, is playable too. Juuuust, not yet. :P First half of my story, I've already made and picked which will be playable on the get-go and the second half, the rest of the cast. So just be patient but still enjoy the characters. :D Heck, you already start with Claire, Leon and Rebecca anyway.

Another head's up too would be that I'm gonna be listing down game objections in each chapter. And if needed. XD Just for fun. Usually at the end of the chapter anyway, but ideally, gives you an idea what you have to do rather than running headless. There is still freedom, like Dead Island (but no side quests cuz I dun recall coming across those in RE games, I think) and Evil Within, where you can briefly explore to find more items. This part in this chapter, it isn't relatively jumping into the battles yet but I will say you can explore a bit in West Koralo at the beginning to find or be sold items too (I'm thinking of a Cuban vendor who sells stuff and weapon upgrades on the street…yes, inspired by our lovely weird merchant in RE4).

Also, I've made some changes, even in the last chapter: 1. Being Steve's eye color, thanks to Sheenah and her awesome review. :) 2. The name of the cargo ship line, decided to give a ferry the named _Kharon_ instead. Sounds fitting. Yeaaah, a ferry named after the ferryman from Hades' underworld. 3. Each playable character is now labelled with the name of a chess piece. The reason for this comes later and it's just me having fun. :P

I've also made some changes to gameplay for this idea. I was thinking back about what I said on skill points in the first chapter. Scratch that. When I thought more, it sounded more annoying to be finding skill points from exploration, even if some comes from killing zombies. I think the better way for player progression would be instant experience gain like how you get in Battlefield or Evolve (after each round, you get exp from killing and stuff to unlock levels). That would be more easy and maintainable for you all to level up (and not be spending on pointless skills).

Another point is on single-player, I know players would prefer not to always have to need to keep an eye out on their partners, especially in single-player. And that only works well if the AI is done well (which, I will have to say in RE6, the AI's a lot better than I expected). I had thought of this option that as single-player, you can be left behind while the others in your team go ahead like a typical RE in the old days...but sounds weird though. Even when you may get killed alone too. One thing for sure in single-player, you do not need to share your items, especially when items are limited in horror games. In multiplayer, you do have that option but it won't be like one person steals your item away from you. You all equally get the item altogether (but if separated into twos, then not really because I'd say you'll relatively get the same amount of items from each arc so there's no point in doubling items or else it breaks away the item scarcity). Another thing is to keep the horror factor, even when you aren't alone. Revelations, I will say, did that fantastic even when you as Jill had a partner some of the time. You still felt lonely and scared with all the sounds going about, when Parker was right next to ya. Being in a four team would sound like it's killing the horror but as I said before, you won't always be together as a full group in the same game chapter all the time. You'd be separated, you'd have to be through different arcs as compared to other teammates. You'd still be alone and the worst part, you'd be afraid to lose your teammate so that you aren't alone (but not be frustrated by crappy AI or unexpected situations like hey, the monster's eating up your mate, mate). As a die-hard horror gamer, I'd want that over pure action just as it's done well in Alien Isolation. I'd want to be forced to think out my plans carefully to survive long enough over just irrationally shooting like Rambo and wasting bullets. That's what gets my blood pumping. It's the same for some non-horror games like TF2 (yes it's not horror but it's an action game that also forces me to think how I can push my team to victory). Not scared that I'd get frustrated but scared that I need to survive. :)

Also, if you've been reading the dialogues and noticed there aren't a lot of cheesy lines...I'm not very good at those. At all. Sometimes if the opportunity needs it but not as much as RE series have done. Every single second. (If anything, I'd prefer the humour in L4D series than RE series…cough) I will try a bit but not to the point the slapstick will cause me to slap myself at the pointlessness. We had those moments, people. Don't deny it.

Also, yes, Wesker is back.

I found it strange that in Revelations he wasn't entirely involved in it, especially when TRICELL was but then again, would make sense that he doesn't NEED to be the mastermind for every plot of world domination (or whatever the antagonist's plot was in it). I'd say I'd expect Wesker to appear again in any games that take place before his death at least once soooo if Capcom decides to make a game before 2010….hurrah(?). Additionally, I was always wondering what happened to HCF since they never appeared again since CV. I'm guessing at some point in history, something happened to Wesker's little army or they were placed together under TRICELL's control when he started work under them. And this guess gave me some ideas, especially having HCF being used as a private force to keep control over the island.

SO EXPECT HCF TO BE AN ENEMY, BOYS AND GIRLS! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! ! !

Moreover I've made a rough idea of the classes. Note. ROUGH. Don't know if I'll add more or work more on what I have. Expect changes. Classes:

**Tank**

**Assault** – Draws zombie attention to oneself and deal more damage  
><strong>Operative<strong> – More firearm variety (from using assault rifles to sniper rifles, magnum, etc), more defended, average speed

**DPS (If anyone can give me a better term than this, beep me. I can't find anyway)**

**Field Agent** – Balanced class, excellent on certain skills and firearms, quicker than operative but average defense  
><strong>Interference<strong> – Manipulates zombies to do disorientated things to each other

**Support**

**Recon** – Locate and infiltrate enemies ahead for team, does well doing surveillance  
><strong>Medic<strong> – Heals teammates and has knowledge of how to incap zombies using chemicals

Some characters's classes are mixed like Leon's and some are pure.

And before I move on, one last thing. If you notice at the top, I usually put a quote. This one does not. That's because each game chapter has a quote, not my individual chapters. So every time you see a quote above, means we've moved on to the next game chapter...Yeah, makes no fawking sense. But just give me credit for trying to write this like it's a game.

And with that, hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please r'n'r too! Feedback helps me alot. :D

PS. Claire searching for Steve's body to put it to rest, yeah, you all didn't expect that did ya? Sorry but to me Claire searching for him as being 'alive' doesn't sound like a realistic reason. It sounds too hopeful in a zombie game. I mean, say your boyfriend or girlfriend got turned into a man-eating undead, with no cure, would you really be hopeful in saving him/her? No. You'd put them out of their misery. You'd have to be as sick as the psychos in Dead Rising series to make them endure like that. Also that reason has been used frequent in a lot of Claire/Steve fanfics soooo why should I follow the norm?

Ooooh, you're gonna be seeing me make different choices and hate me cuz I'm not making a typical RE romance. AGAIN, not always my cup of tea.

PPS. (Ooooh is this note making this chapter too long) Got another question which I will also put in my help forum. Wesker worked under a lot of outside companies right? (Geez, how does this guy get around). Just to be clear, these are the ones he worked under so far: the rival company (where Ada worked under and I presume still is in 2006), the organization (that has Spencer in it) and TRICELL, correct? Also if at one point did Wesker stopped working under the rival company since it's never mentioned his continuation with them (the organization, I know he took over in RE5...supposedly(?) and TRICELL, he still worked under or mostly took over during RE5) If I'm wrong on any point, please let me know. This will be helping me on how he has earned a spot under HELIX as well as some possible plot ideas that actually could fill the gaps between points in Wesker's life. :D Imagination galore.

PPSS. Have left abilities empty for now because I really do need to work more on them before I fill them up. So expect this slot to be empty for a while.


	4. Chapter Three: Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Breakthrough<strong>

* * *

><p><em>30 May 2006, 7:20 P.M.<em>

_Level D, Theseus Research Facility_

HE HAD TAKEN HIS TIME sauntering deeper into the facility, his destination ending at the fourth level. There was no rush. Time was in his grasp, at his own pace.

No one dared choose to cross paths with him. Interrupt him. Defy him. They were below his feet, the very worms they were, waiting fearfully on command and knees. Some sucked up to him. Some wanted to shoot him down in retribution but not enough to gamble away their pitiful lives.

After all, he was in control. Sure, those fat lazy dogs of HELIX Foundations had a say sometimes but it was he who brought out the full potential within this enormous project with nobody standing in his way...

Well...only _one_ proved sometimes a challenge within these walls. But where was the fun without such a character?

He strolled into one of the research labs. Inside, a group of high-rank scientists were rather cheery for the night. The liveliness crashed into a halt once he entered, like a black personification of the end, sucking out all the joy. He eventually got his answer why the early celebration.

Ah...so it was finally reaching the last lap of analysis...

Ten years. It has taken him ten years since he stepped forth into the project. He had been _very_ patient...watching it grow like it was his precious child.

_Hm. An amusing thought._

The blond-haired man in black clothes continued onwards to a room in the back, having noted one wasn't in the partying group. With his absence, the merry continued quietly but that didn't interested him the slightest.

He found her standing in front of the large screens, all alone in the quiet computer room. No such jolly across her stiff, tired face like the others in the vicinity.

He spied a twitch on her shoulders as he walked in, but the ash-blond-haired half-Spanish never turned around. On the spot, she had already predicted his clockwork arrival as equivalent to a disgusting vibe that needed to be shaken off. He was 'vaguely' insulted but admitted silently that it was a remarkable sight every time he _bumped _into her.

After all, on this island, they were both enemies. Outside, only one man, that shrewd BSAA soldier, took that spot. In here, it was the battle of wits but out there, his mind, body and spirit were tested against that Redfield.

On occasions. Not as frequent as that against the half-Spanish .

"You are indeed predictable," Albert Wesker said flatly. "You should be rejoicing to the breaking news."

He stood just next to her, inches away. Despite her indifferent persona as her shield, his very attendance was surely provoking her from the inside.

"And yet here you are with that long frown," he humorously taunted. "What's the status?"

The woman refrained from even glancing back at Wesker. An unpleasant face just merely stared into open space.

"You've already heard. There's no point in me repeating it."

His humming soft hilarity was just pricking at her nerves.

"I'm asking _**you**_ for the details. No one else."

The calm, manipulated ending tone enforced her in her place. But she didn't care.

"...Zero signs of rejection in the phagocytosis process. All spliced characteristics from previous viruses and parasite have successfully combined with the original variant... If the tests don't show any red flags...we can move on to human experiments with this new variant..."

The blonde didn't steer her eyes to the corners to spy how gleeful he was at her words. She merely tightened them with distaste at the screen.

"Some good news indeed. It was rather disappointing on the last several endosymbionts. How long?"

"Estimated...maybe a week. Or two."

"That is a long number of days. But then," he started, wheeling his shaded eyes on her. "Are you sure that is exact? Or are you just delaying _**again**_?"

"One or two weeks. If you want this virus perfect, then you're going to have to give it more time," she steadfastly stated with a strict tone. So it seemed she would continue to delay. "I could have said all that on the phone. Why are you here?"

Straight to the point.

"Oh?" His eyebrows lifted behind his black sunglasses. "After all the time we spent working together and I'm still not welcomed."

She didn't find his _sense of humour_ at all entertaining. Not even open-hearted to his so-called _assistance_.

Indeed, his visit was...unannounced. It wasn't unexpected that the woman would find this uncalled stay as suspicious. Or any other time he visited the island with or without a call.

"It's strictly business. I'll be staying overnight to go over with my men on new routine plans."

He had been taken by surprise when he received a call earlier today... One of the reasons why he decided to make the surprise trip.

Oh, how would this unfold? It didn't alter his original plan...

"There are going to be some changes around here."

"What do you plan to do with the kiddo?"

It was straightforward, a rather pissed off question. Now, the woman faced him with one of her angry moods again.

Of course. The 'kiddo'.

He always wondered why such a silly, little pet name...

"Why?" Wesker might as well please her for the time being. "You were very supportive of him to accept my proposal."

"Don't play daft with me, Wesker," she hissed. "That transfer is adding him into your damn militia. In South Africa. What _**are**_ your plans?"

Wesker chuckled. Yes, this was the face he enjoyed seeing. Reminded him so much of another.

"Oh, I'm not too sure myself. He has proven to be an excellent specimen indeed in just one year. Surpassed all of my soldiers. But it's not to impress me." He neared closer to her in a dark and threatening pace. "I know the real reason why you want him to leave."

The woman held her ground, still resisting the urge to hit him or back away.

"Less worry on your little 'student' if he's off this island. You and your colleagues have taught him everything you can so that he can live on his own out there. That is naïve. The world isn't a safe place for anyone. It's not meant for the weak. You, of all people, should know that."

Her body rigidly tensed and her face hollowed with hidden guilt. Yes, it was low. But really, she had to see the same light as he did.

Wesker could not understand this woman sometimes, the rebelling revolution in her so much different from before.

It was much more fun pushing at her buttons back then...

"You can't always keep protecting him, McLenlan," he sardonically whispered into her ear, delightfully sensing the anger, the tension out of the woman's soured expression. "He needs to face the outside world."

There was nothing the woman could do on the spot as he withdrew. A shaking fist but he knew just as much as she did. A punch to the face was useless. Pointless.

She was his puppet. Everyone on this island was his playthings.

Only she was more interesting and entertaining than most. A rather disobedient fighter in white but still within the thralls of his grasp. However, ever since he brought that _specimen_ to the island...he has noticed how less feeble McLenlan has become. How much of a change she went...

Luckily, he'd be changing that fact very soon.

Wesker wheeled to the door, the tailends of his black trenchcoat trailing after him. "Be sure to keep me informed, McLenlan."

He sneered to himself when he heard the fist slam against the dashboard, causing papers to scatter to the floor.

The woman inside took to her breathing exercises. _Calm down_, she told herself. _That's what he wants. _She couldn't give him the satisfaction this time.

Not now. Not ever.

A heavy sigh left her mouth as she massaged her strained hazel eyes, her thumb and finger on the frame of her glasses she took off. The blonde put them on again and looked back to the monitors, reading the numbers increase slowly with each minute.

By 7 A.M., it'd read 100 percent.

She furrowed her eyebrows with the utmost determination and bolted out of the research lab, caring less to hear the employees cheer on and question her why she wasn't as thrilled as they were. HELIX would be happy. Maybe give a raise. Extend the project to see what possibilities could reveal...

There was no bloody way it'd be that easy and she knew it was bull.

"I see Wesker had paid a visit again."

She had made her way to a security room, stationed for special ops. The head scientist sighed with relief to meet a trusted face.

There were only so many she could find and trust as allies while the rest, too high-risk for too many reasons. The Australian security captain before her was one.

"Have you heard anything from outside?" she asked and he noted from her quick inquiring that he didn't need to pry further how the talk went between her and Wesker.

"Other than the hurricane coming in two days, no." He raised an eyebrow. "But from your look, you suspect something from Wesker."

She casted a glance, spying the watchful camera eye above them. The Aussie gave a fellow nod and the two left to a more comfortable, quiet and less-prodding area.

The one good benefit for a head director and a security officer was knowing all the weak points of the facility.

"You want my men to tail after him?"

She feebly nodded. They knew the danger was very high. "I'm sending them off to get killed for sure."

He sighed. "I already expect all of us to be dead tomorrow or the day after. Might as well get a head start before they do." He thought causally. "Jacobs and Fuller's shift ended five minutes ago. I can radio them up. Jacobs's been meaning to find an excuse to get back at HCF."

He slanted back to the wall, folding his arms with just as much a tired look as his ally.

"So...how much time?"

She hated being the bearer of bad news. "...Twelve hours. If Wesker plans to get it shipped out soon instead of moving it to human tests...I'd say an extra hour or two."

A nod to her acknowledged the predicament. "I can rally up as much men as I can early in the morning. I'll just say it's a scheduled run. Odell won't suspect anything. What 'bout the backup?"

He was given a sad look.

"No word... I really had hoped this person would get help. Even...come for the kiddo." She weakly smirked. "You think I'd learnt my lesson in getting my hopes too high."

The guard didn't join her sad excuse for laughter. "So we're alone on this one?"

"Yeah..."

The Aussie then shrugged his shoulders with no regret. "Well, we've been alone for this long. Might as well finish it with everything we got. I'll keep you posted."

"Likewise."

He started to take off but in half of his stride, he stopped himself. "Iria. There's no turning back once this plan of yours starts. There's gonna be death, no matter how hard you try to stop it. Are you prepared?"

She sighed. He knew her too well. All too well that she'd been taking in all the responsibility to the point of suffocation. The job came with that. What was to happen next, the guard captain could easily predict this strong-headed woman being chained down with more losses that didn't belong to her.

As far as she was concerned...she had already become an angel of death the moment the head director position was tossed onto her lap.

"Kent. We couldn't turn back the moment we stepped on this island. Why should this time make any difference?"

* * *

><p>Claire paced furiously around the insides of the 2-by-4 room. Leon had said that four hours had passed since she was knocked cold but he admitted it was a guess. Their weapons, phones, everything from their pockets had been taken and stashed somewhere in the one-level concrete building.<p>

But wasting their time inside the cells, when she was so close to the truth...

Worse, it was reminding her too much of the past.

"Claire, calm down," Rebecca called out within the same cell, her eyes trailing after her striding partner. Already, she swore she could see crop circles within the wooden floor. "We'll get out of this."

Claire wished she could. But how could she? She was close!

In the next cell, Leon and Vince were a little calmer than the ladies.

"Reckon how many guards indoors?"

"Five," Leon pointed, two on an hour-routine path to check on their prisoners and three not too far away.

Vince frowned and leaned back sluggishly. "I lost count after twenty before we got here. Getting out of here will be tough. That's if we break out of these cells."

Leon examined his surroundings for a third time. "No weak spots I can see. Unless we get the keys, we're not going anywhere."

"So we got no choice but to bunk tonight. Super."

A crackle of an iron door stirred the men up. With a concerned look, Leon got off the dusty bed and to the bars.

"Claire?"

He peered as much as he could but could barely see much of her. He could guess. She had stopped pacing and headed to the bars, hands rattling them.

"How long ago was the last guard, Leon?"

Straight to the point and already planning. But he didn't like this start. "Forty minutes ago."

Quiet. Then she spoke. "I can distract him. Maybe get the keys off him before he notice."

"Claire–"

"It's better than sitting here. And I don't see any keys hanging for us to use a stick and reel them in."

He grumbled quietly. He had expected this behavior. Of course, the woman didn't like staying in one location for too long. She was starting to get ahead of herself all over again.

But Leon had to agree. The longer they stayed here, the more liking they'd be disposed of. Or worse, be used as experiments.

"...Just enough for him to get close to this cell. He'll be too focused on you to see me take him out."

The unsteady sounds of her aggravation settled down. Ok, she was calm. Just a bit.

"Claire, just remember."

She was about to block out her ears. If this was another piece of advice to keep herself focused–

"You're not alone."

That surprised her. The footsteps next door told her Leon wasn't going to go any further, drawing back to his seat.

She softly sighed, banging her forehead at the cold iron.

She did it again. Lost her cool. Claire used every fibre in her to resist laughing at herself.

She wasn't alone. It wasn't like Rockfort Island again.

"Mine, mine, mine."

Her body went cold. Stiff. She had barely heard the new footsteps – first thought was the same guard. Slowly, her wide eyes ambled up to the man with shades, standing in front of her cell with that familiar cruel smile.

"We meet again, Claire Redfield."

Wesker.

The pale man noted her companion inside the cell. Although she couldn't see past the shades, he was surprised to some degree.

Perhaps amused.

"And Rebecca Chambers. Well. This is a reunion indeed."

The petite woman didn't share his enthusiasm. She was more cautious. Shocked to see him.

Seemed like he wouldn't get a welcoming hello from one of his _old_ comrades.

"So sorry for how my men treated you all. Hospitality is not one of their fortes. How long has it been? Eight years?" Wesker then spotted the blond-haired agent. "Ah, Leon Kennedy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You were a very troublesome man back in Spain."

"Wesker..." he hissed, gripping tight to the bars.

The spite intrigued Wesker for a little but he still turned his attention back to Claire. "It's truly a surprise to see you here. This island is supposed to be top secret from everyone outside."

He paused with a heavy thought, then lightly leered at his conclusion.

"But I wonder... Was it McLenlan who contacted you?"

A flinch of small amazement flashed on her face. How in the world did he guess that? Yes, he was inhuman but like hell, she'd believe he was omniscient.

The change in her expression, however, pleased Wesker. He was indeed correct.

"How sharp of her. But how... Seems like I'll be spending the night looking over her calls and emails. Still, strange she managed to send help through security." He thought deeply for a moment, trying to come up with possibilities of how the woman did it. However, the thought was quick and Wesker returned to grinning at Claire. "But it doesn't matter."

"What did you do with her, Wesker?"

It was rather an odd question to hear from Leon. And only about this one person. Claire had remembered how much of a small perk Leon gave when she picked out that name from the list earlier.

She thought the same question as Wesker asked.

"Hm. Any relation to her, Kennedy? I don't believe you have any family ties," he stated. "What I did or do with her, it's not of your concern. You should be thinking more of your situation."

It was then that he took notice on the new face.

"And who do we have here? Your rookie student?"

Furrowed eyes, Vince simply crossed his arms, his shoulder leaning against the bars. "And you must be Wesker we've all heard so much about."

Wesker bowed, as if honoured. "Well, my reputation precedes me."

"Sure, top most bioterrorist in the entire globe on our watchlist. 'Course, I imagined someone other than a wannabe man-in-black. Aliens were too much work for you?"

The joke didn't at first bring out irritation but gradually stirred out a soft chortle. Vince straightened up tensely but still kept up his smile once he found himself trapped in a showdown, now face to face with Wesker himself. He couldn't drop his guard down, even if he just signed his own death warrant.

Vince never saw the fist coming.

_POW!_

"OMFP!"

"Vince!" But Leon was too slow once Wesker's free hand gripped his partner by the throat threateningly, the other buried in his stomach.

"You have quite a loud mouth," Wesker mocked softly to his ear. "May telling me your name, agent...?"

Vince coughed desperately, trying to pull the rolled up hand away but it was in vain. The man was mercilessly tough! Pressing deeper into his diaphragm. "Gah... D-Daken..."

Wesker gave a contented nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Daken. I do wonder if any surprises out of you will be just as tasteful as I've gotten from your partner here. Guess we'll have to see."

With a shove, the agent tumbled down to the floor, clutching his abdomen as he heavily gasped for air. Leon hurried to his side, checking to see if anything broken.

Nothing. Just had the air knocked out of him.

"Damn it, Wesker. What do you plan to do with us?" Leon demanded.

"Truthfully, none. Your arrival was very unexpected. I didn't have time to make any special arrangements for you." Wesker causally strolled away from the second cell. "I suppose you'll have to stay here for a while longer until I decide...something."

"Why?"

It was another odd question to hear, this time from his old ex-comrade. Rebecca's confused and distressed face didn't faze him the slightest but it was still puzzling to him.

"Why are you doing this, Wesker? We worked together," Rebecca hollered. "You were a STARS captain! Our colleague!"

"Rebecca, Rebecca. You made two mistakes. I _**was**_ part of the STARS. And I was _**not**_ your colleague. I had far more goals than just sticking around and holding hands with all of you. Captain just...didn't cut it for me. Do you understand?"

She stared at him in complete disbelief.

"Just because we were STARS members, doesn't mean we shared anything. The past is the past. Move on."

That silenced Rebecca, her stunned and pained expression giving him satisfaction. It was indeed a desperate attempt to pursue him to see the light and she had only realized it.

Yes, they had been co-workers but just working in the same station didn't mean anything. Chris, Barry, Jill, the lost lives of her Bravo Team, Rebecca knew them all like the back of her hand but the once captain? None.

So her words meant nothing at all.

"That is the same exact face Chris gave me," Wesker said. "Didn't wound me then. And doesn't wound me now."

He then surprisingly snapped his fingers, remembering something and turning his attention to Claire. He folded one arm to his chest, the other hand now cupping his chin.

"Ah, I had been meaning to say something to you, heart. It's…" He spun his unfolded arm about in small circles, as if reeling his mind to peck at a single old memory. "It's something on the tip of my tongue..." Wesker then grinned again, twisted delight behind his shades. "Oh, yes."

He drew closer, every inch telling Claire's nerves to be alert for whatever he was going to pull.

"Steve lives."

That taunt. It gripped at her to the core. But no sense of hope rose from within her. Instead, the shock slowly boiled to rage.

Because the news coming out of this man's mouth was meant as mockery.

"I told you he'd come back alive. Just as I did."

The brunette lunged forward, teeth clenched and piercing eyes. Her attempt to struggle his throat was futile as Wesker had already backed away in a split second.

Too fast for the slow Redfield behind bars.

"Wesker, if you did _**anything**_ to Steve, I swear–"

"How touching. You still cared for a corpse after all these years, heart. But you have nothing to worry about. Well, maybe a little."

The wrath thickened. Yes, definitely like her brother.

"If there's one person you should be blaming, it's McLenlan." The stunned change in her face, it was admirably priceless to Wesker. "I was just the deliveryman. The overseer. She was the executor. The one who made him a worthy specimen. Far better than I had anticipated."

Wesker hummed softly to himself. _Wonder how all this will play out..._

"It's truly ironic. McLenlan contacting you, having worked on good Steve. I wonder what her game is." Wesker's smile grew crueller than usual. "Maybe she wants to ask for your forgiveness. But you probably won't do that. Not to her. Not to me either."

The laughter leaking from his grin was soft but it was spiteful to Claire, Leon and Rebecca. Trapped mice for him to play.

"But then again, forgiveness is underrated."

He had successfully left his mark in the conversation. There was no need to continue. With that triumph in mind, Wesker traded the two watchful guards for his leave through the exit.

"Enjoy the night."

No threats and angry yells were tossed at his back. It would have been wasted anyhow. He continued onwards and out of the little HCF outpost confidently.

Joining him to his right was the captain.

Eager on the spot, hoping to hear a job-well-done from his boss for capturing vermin. The cocky captain with the brightly-dyed undercut, however, held it back in when Wesker didn't speak first.

The wanting was just the captain showing that he was in line. Desperately gaining back the trust he had lost four months ago.

"Should we move them to the facility?" he then asked.

A common question. But to move three familiar faces to the research facility, it made Wesker snicker.

"No, no need, Coté. The last thing I need is them breaking free inside the facility. You have no idea how capable they are. Especially the dear heart and the lion," he pointed. "Leave them here but keep watch. They're awfully tricky little pests."

"If they're that dangerous, then we should dispose of them."

"And lose the fun? Why bother? They're locked up. And I have my best men here. I don't see any problems." Wesker darkly glanced at the captain. "Unless you all prove me wrong."

"No sir," Coté quickly replied. Actually a little too quickly with a hint of nervousness.

"Good." Wesker reached out for the door of the passenger's seat in a readied jeep "Now then, I leave it in your incompetent hands. Everything should be done before the storm. Speaking of which, I must make the preparations for tomorrow."

"And...what would that be?"

Wesker didn't fault him for being a little curious.

"Well...I'm setting up a little game of chess with a _**friend**_."

He was looking forward to tomorrow, when the curtains would rise...

_The war starts tomorrow, McLenlan._

* * *

><p><em>BAM!<em>

"Claire, calm down!" Rebecca shouted after the now lost-tempered woman kicked at the cell door. The sudden noise didn't unnerve the two guards from their glued spots however.

Claire did no such thing to calm down. Instead, she went back to her pacing. This time clasping through her hair in frustration like a bad habit. In her mind, all she could think was that nothing was going her way. _We're locked up. Wesker's here. And tomorrow's the deadline._

The small prison section became quiet. Leon was busy further checking if his partner alright and luckily, Vince was. Just knocked out on the floor that Leon had no choice but to move him to the lower bed.

"Who's Steve?"

It wasn't loud enough for their friends or the guards to hear but just enough to make Claire wheel back stiffly and hastily.

"He's the real reason why you wanted to come, right?" Rebecca asked.

Her insides twisted and shoulders sunk down. Claire felt guilty. "Becs, I-"

Rebecca raised a hand to stop her and sat down, not at all offended. She knew Claire all too well, to the point when Claire got causal, emotional or relaxed, she'd call her Becs.

"I get it... I also had someone I had hoped to meet one day."

The words eased Claire's anger down and eventually, she moved closer to sit beside for this girl talk.

"Did you ever-"

"Look for him? No." Rebecca shook her head. "Actually, if I did, I'd probably arrest him on the spot instead." She chuckled lightly, diving into her old memories for a moment. "So...what was this Steve like?"

A smile flashed at the remembrance, then strangely with a roll of the eyes. "Pretty ignorant at first. Arrogant. Bigmouthed. Always runs into everything before he thinks."

Ok, Rebecca didn't expect those as answers. But somehow, she could relate.

"But...he had his moments. Seemed to know when to drop in and save the day for me."

A frown consumed the smile on Rebecca's puzzled face. "Had?"

Claire's expression followed suit, but much sadder. "He... He didn't make it..."

The one last thing she needed was pity from Rebecca but it couldn't be helped. However, Claire didn't go on into more details and with that, she respected her in silence.

How it happened, Claire remembered it very clearly.

***/*/*/***

_In that Antarctica Base, she had found the redhead slumped in a chair, a huge axe restricting his chest. She watched in vain as Steve's body tremble and twist. A large, monstrous version of her friend, his mind lost to the virus and the one who gave him that infection by needle. She had run away to stay alive from him, screaming and wielding that axe at her._

_Tentacles burst out from the ground and caught her, preparing her to be skibob for the pawn._

_But at the moment the axe held up high, there was a glimpse of humanity in those red eyes._

_The axe swayed down but to one of the tentacles, freeing her._

_In retaliation, the tentacles stabbed through Steve. _

_Tears fell. She screamed out his name and hurried to his side, his horrific form deflating back to his human self._

_At near death, he gazed up to her in a trance. He gladly smiled._

"_I...I love you..."_

_***/*/*/***_

The stinginess of those final words wet her eyes. She swallowed, mentally doing everything she could to keep her emotions in control.

"He said...he was sorry that he couldn't keep his promise...and that...he loved me..."

The quiet seconds droned on mercilessly. On the seat they shared, Rebecca could see how much the death of another got to her. Words didn't need to describe it. Rebecca had experienced that too.

"You must think I'm horrible now." Claire tried to fight the tears with a laugh but that failed horribly. She quickly wiped her eyes before the water could fall. "I didn't come here to help these people. I... I just–"

"Claire, you told me you sent the email to TerraSave. You asked me to help you rescue them. Why would I think you only came for one person?"

"Yes, but–"

Rebecca shook her head, stopping her again. "I don't see why you can't save everyone. Including Steve."

Claire wasn't convinced.

"Wesker said he is alive."

She sniffed out a laugh. "Yeah, but as what? Human? Rebecca... Steve was infected with a virus when he died. And Wesker..."

The thought of Steve coming back as that giant mutated form again dreaded her. If that was to happen again...

"But he's alive. And if he needs rescuing, then we'll do that. If he needs a cure, we'll find it. Claire, Leon is right. You aren't alone on this one."

"Why are you always so optimistic, Becs?"

Rebecca simply shrugged her shoulders. "I just am."

The remark managed to bring back Claire's smile. That was good.

"Do you love him?"

She didn't reply straight away. It had caught her off guard but then, Claire thought for a moment. Really for a moment.

But came up with no answer.

"I...I don't know... I cared for him. I still do. But..."

It had been so long. Did she love him? Maybe, back then in that short moment. She had moved on. She was prepared to search for a dead body to bury. Prepared that he wouldn't come back.

And now this...

"All I want is to get him back," Claire admitted truthfully.

"...Well, you'll just have to find out when you meet him, won't you?" Rebecca said with her cheery smile. She leapt off the seat and patted the dust off her bottom.

"Becs... About what Wesker said about Iria... Do you think she had something to do with Steve?" she asked difficultly. "She was the one who sent me all those documents. And about the virus."

That surprised Rebecca. "But Leon said–"

"Anónimo was just the messenger."

Claire watched the petite woman think for a moment. She knew she had sounded horrible, talking about one of Rebecca's idols as if McLenlan was a villain.

"...There was something my professor told me about Carme. She and her sister always had a habit of reciting quotes. And he told me this when I messed up one of my assignments. 'May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you're going and the insight to know when you've gone too far'."

Claire's eyebrows rose. Interesting, long quote.

"He thought the quotes were their way of guiding themselves. I think he was right," Rebecca explained. "I don't know if Iria did or didn't do anything to Steve... But I don't believe she's a bad person."

It rose a good point, making Claire recall something recent.

A quote, huh?

'_There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses.'_

A habit of reciting quotes. Sounded like the shared habit she had with Chris. Well, not really like rushing into the cause like heroes, head in the game. Oh, the days they pretended to be like the comic book superheroes when they were kids...

Claire looked up to the small window above her as Rebecca scowled at the guards, no doubt already planning a way out silently.

The sky was pitch black but much clearer than the cloudy nights in Weston. Stars were beautifully out.

It was a pleasant night to ponder. Sure, they were in jail. But as for now, all they could do was wait for an opportunity. And hopefully soon.

Weaknesses... She thought back to the quote and she had to agree. Lately, she had been showing her weak side, getting emotional when she shouldn't.

Inhaled. Exhaled. No more.

Fuelled with determination, Claire stood up.

There was no way she was stopping here.

* * *

><p><em>31 May 2006, 11:27 A.M.<em>

_Bolívar_ _Outpost, Cape Inacio_

The opportunity hadn't come yet but the morning had certainly roused up. At dawn break, most of the HCF guards outside had dispersed off on jeeps. Even, the captain was gone. As far as Claire could see, they headed off to one direction – north, south, east, west? She wasn't sure, if she didn't know where the outpost was located.

That didn't mean the cells were left unattended.

Vince had woken up sometimes ago, still having a little difficulty breathing but overall, still good enough to fight and eager to break out.

The morning commotion had gotten their interest.

"Rebecca, you hear anything?" Leon asked.

She squeezed as much as she could through the bars, lending her ear out to overhear the talk outside. The ladies' cell was the nearest to the exit, next door probably being a common room or a place of operation.

"Something about an incident. They're sending more guys over to take care of it." She turned back to Claire worriedly. "It sounds like a war out there."

Claire bit hard on her lip. "It's starting." Pushing away any dreadful ideas of innocents getting killed or infected, she hurried to the door, hands on bars. "We got to get out of here."

"The sooner, the better. We've overstayed our welcome." Vince hissed, slapping his neck and glancing down to see a now squashed mess of wings and goo. "Stupid mosquitoes. Don't suppose you girls have some hairpin to picklock our cells?"

"UGH!"

"What was that?" Rebecca uttered, hearing the dying sound from afar. The four tensed in their cells. Waiting for the guards to come for the strange noise.

No guards did. Instead, coming into the picture were two new faces – one Caucasian and one Indian. In body armor and uniforms but not as the same as HCF. Their logos simply said "security", along with the HELIX's symbol. What was more, their uniforms were very dark blue.

"Who are you?"

The Indian, carrying a set of keys, rushed over to the girls' cell. His partner guarded the entrance, hand ready on the gun.

"No time to explain. We're here to help."

_Bzzt!_ "_Fuller, come in!_" The call from a walkie-talkie on the second man's chest distracted all of them, even the Indian just about to swing the door open. The officer, Fuller, reached for the device and clicked the button.

"Read you. We got the prisoners."

Shots fired from the other end. Fuller glimpsed back to his partner with fright.

"Williams!"

"_Infected loose! I repeat! Infected loose! You got to get to the South-East underpass pronto! Shut off the exit before they have a chance of getting out!_"

"Roger that. We'll–"

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Before Claire's wide eyes, blood projected backwards from three holes in the man's body, dropping dead.

"Fuller!" The Indian wheeled around but by the time he raised his gun, anything not protected by his body armor was filled with iron.

_No!_

With a dash, Claire swung out and swiped for the gun. Her appearance was a surprise to the guard down the hall and before he had a chance to fire, she took him down with a headshot.

_BANG!_

"Hang on!"

She turned back to see Rebecca on the floor, tending to the garrotting officer. He had more bullets than his friend, but was barely clinging to life.

Claire spotted the keys and quickly pitched them to Leon, who caught them easily. "I'll get an aid kit–"

"Gah-n-no..." The Indian's broken words stopped her from leaving. "T-Too late for me... Y-You...have to go... The facility... Everyone's..."

"Don't talk! You're going to be fine!" Rebecca desperately looked at Claire. "Get the first aid kit! Now!"

A gurgle, both laughter and blood filled, escaped from the Indian's mouth. The smile, however, faded. "I-If you meet C-captain W-Williams... T-Tell him...Jacobs and F-Fuller didn't make it."

"No!" Rebecca snapped, still keeping pressure on the bleeding wounds. "Don't say that."

Jacobs ignored her plead. Or maybe he couldn't hear anymore.

"H-He'll...know what to do..."

One arm, having clutched to Rebecca for support, fell. The body went limp in her arms. Cold. Dead eyes staring into the ceiling.

Their rescuers were gone.

"No... No!"

It was Bravo team all over again.

She quickly laid Jacobs down and began pushing his chest in a rhythm with CPR.

"Rebecca," Leon called out, a hand on her shoulder. The two men had already gotten out. "He's gone."

After the twenty-second push, Rebecca reluctantly stopped.

Two people, even if they knew nothing of, were dead because of them.

The thought seized Claire at her heart.

***/*/*/***

_The Iraqi desert sun. The thick smell of gunpowder and iron. The shouts of English and Arabic._

_The shade of red stained on sand._

_Chaos._

_But only one thing was on her mind._

_The blood-soaked body of an olive-skinned woman in her arms. _

_A TerraSave member._

"_Hang hold, Yasmin! We'll get you out of here! Just hang hold!"_

_It was a frantic attempt. She had tried to drag her friend away from the battlefield. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing a stone home of a family not too far away but the journey seemed too long._

"_C-Claire..."_

_She turned back to her dying friend. _

"_I-I'm sorry..."_

_***/*/*/***_

"Claire? Claire." The loud call snapped her out of her trance of fresh memories. She turned to Leon, the caller, who stared at her with concern. "You ok?"

"Yeah... It's nothing."

It wasn't nothing. The pale face told him otherwise but he didn't press on.

"_Fuller, Come in._"

Hearing a beep sound, Leon kneeled down to one of the dead bodies and shuffled out the walkie-talkie. "Hello?"

"_Who is this?_" the Australian voice demanded. "_Where's Fuller?_"

He glanced down to the officers with a repentant face. "I'm sorry... They didn't make it."

"_Shit...Tell me you got the bastards._"

"Yeah," Claire said. "What's going on?"

The sound of gunshots, however, could be heard.

"Hello! Can you hear us?" Leon yelled.

"_You're at Bolívar Outpost. Fuller should have a map._" With that in mind, Claire patted into the pockets and pulled out a piece of paper, circles and names marked in red. "_Head back to town._"

"What?" she uttered.

"From the sound of things, there's trouble. We can help."

"_It's a death trap here_._ We can't let anyone or anything in or out!_"

"I don't like the sound of that," Vince admitted.

"Leon." Claire was already examining the map in her hand, trailing a finger from the outpost location to a circle all to the left, where a lagoon was. "The facility isn't that far. We can get there."

"_Negative!_" the voice spoke. "_If you're talking about the actual place, it's bloody underwater. Only access is the main entrance and eight underpasses. And we're trying to close them off!_"

"There!" Claire pointed at a much closer spot to the outpost. "This has to be that underpass you mentioned."

The sound of struggle was heard but was shortened with a punch. "_Are you crazy! ? I just said it's a bloody death trap! HCF has one foot here and is going to put the other on the town. All my men are split up everything, trying to stop them while the rest of us are trapped, trying to contain these freaks of nature from getting out!_"

From all that, the four could guessed. Whatever was happening at the facility, HCF had entered there to take control. Meaning lives inside was getting lost, with freaks of nature loose – no doubt a.k.a. infected specimens.

"_You got this chance because of those two. Don't make their deaths be in vain._"

Leon glanced around to his teammates before turning back to the walkie-talkie.

"How bad is it in town?"

"_Fights are a mile from town. They're pushing HCF as much as they can and telling up civilians to stay indoors._"

"What about the facility?"

"_Flamin' hell! I just said–_"

"Which one's more important?" he demanded. "Tell us! Which is a higher priority?"

"_...The facility. If any of these monsters get out and infect the population, then it's over._"

"Alright. We're heading there. We're the closest you got, right now."

"_Bunch of twits... Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you,_" the voice groaned. "_If you're coming, might as well get your name._"

"Special Agent Leon Kennedy," he introduced.

"_Officer Kent Williams. One more thing._"

"Yeah?"

"_Kill as many HCF wankers as you can._"

The call ended, never giving him a chance to say an answer. But looking down at their dead saviors, Leon was sure to give their common foe a one-two.

"Will do."

During the time of the call, Rebecca had closed the dead men's eyes humbly before covering them with blankets. A means of respecting the dead.

Vince reached out a hand to Rebecca. "Come on. Let's give them a thing or two."

Wiping away the tears, which only added a red smear onto her face, Rebecca took his hand and was helped up. She was ready.

All four darted from the cells. Thanks to Fuller and Jacobs, they had taken care of the remaining guards in the building.

"Here." They found their possessions on a table. Rebecca was the first to reach, taking and passing handguns to her teammates before gathering her med pack.

Once everyone was set, Leon gave the order. "Let's move."

"Hold it right there!"

A HCF soldier circled around the corner, assault rifle up.

Vince was faster and closer. Out of the blues, he did the same trick he did to Rebecca in El Delmor. Swiftly pulled the rifle out of the soldier's hands but this time, locked the rifle around his neck.

"Stop him!" came out another shout.

_BANG! BANG!_

Shots were fired but Vince veered round, using his captive as a shield. The man took all the bullets, none of them drilling through the back and into Vince himself. Leon and the girls swung out their guns and leapt forth, firing at three more HCF men dead.

"WHOA!"

The holler made the trio look back to suddenly see Vince be grabbed from the front by his supposedly-dead hostage and flung over.

"Vince!" Leon yelled.

Vince stared horrified at the soldier. How? He was shot by his own comrades. One at the bulletproof vest and two at his openings. He had thought the HCF soldier had died in his arms and dropped his guard down.

Smoke sizzled out of the bleeding bullet holes. Up close on the ground, Vince had only noticed. The uncanny glowing red eyes staring back at him as the man restrained him with abnormal strength. Still breathing. Still very much alive and ready to kill him.

_BANG!_

A headshot to the back from Leon and the HCF soldier fell down.

"Watch out!" Vince gagged, noting the three bodies ahead rising up and taking aim again.

Everyone fell into cover. The outpost was filled with flying 7.62 AK and 9mm rounds.

"Come on out, your fucking bastards!" one of the soldiers yelled with vengeance for his death.

"Dammit! It's not going to be easy," Claire uttered.

"It never is," Leon added and flew out of his cover.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

The foursome made their way towards the main exit once they cleared out the way, Vince battle-ramming the front door open with his shoulder. The heat of the tropical sun immediately greeted them in the empty dirt lot.

"We walk or drive?" Rebecca asked, pointing at a few lone vehicles.

"Prisoners are escaping!"

"We shoot our way through," Leon replied as a handful of soldiers appeared.

* * *

><p>"This is the place," Claire said, looking up from both the electronic and paper maps.<p>

It was a seven-minute rush, making their way through the thick jungle and firing down HCF soldiers left and right. The team found themselves into a clearing, consisting of a small polished-white concrete building fenced up with watchtowers.

Only, it was deserted. No HCF guards on post.

"Doesn't look like an underpass."

The concrete building was like the outpost – one floor. From first impressions, however, it looked like a standard facility, protected with ID card scanners.

And they were right. With an elbow into the glass panel, Leon opened the door and they walked to see rooms filed with scientific equipment, charts and vials.

"This is where the virus's being developed?" Vince asked, curious to see how under-protected the building was in keeping a dangerous infection from escaping.

Rebecca neared to one table in one room, spotting a few papers laid out next to a row of potted plants.

"No. These documents are about the island plants..." She skimmed further. "Research on medicinal properties and all but no virus."

"Something tells me this lab is just a cover-up from the real deal," Claire pointed.

"Here's something... 'Paralytic agent update. Perfected substance from Black Curare plant to quickly slow down specimens in case of emergency. Risk of asphyxiation and neurotoxin poisoning still problematic if large doses but the drug has been useful to save specimens from being eliminated after escape. We cannot afford to switch to another alternative drug.'" The more Rebecca read the documents, the more her interest sparked that she searched about the table.

"So it's both for show and for work," Vince said.

"Here!" The petite held out a light tranquilizer gun and loaded the darts in.

"Should you be taking that stuff? We don't know this stuff."

"You don't but I do. I had been trying to work on effective paralytic drugs on the undead for a while now."

"Hey, over here."

They left the laboratory to find Leon at the end of a hall, a set of stairs going down through the floor.

Look." Leon pointed to a sign with bold red letters and an arrow pointing to the opposite. "Emergency Exit."

Slowly, they descended downstairs into the darkness. For a while, they had to rely on their flashlights to make their way.

Claire grasped her handgun tighter. "Do you hear that?"

Sobbing.

"Yeah," Leon replied.

"This is looking a lot like the start of a horror movie," Vince admitted, feeling shivers down his spine.

"Ugh. Kind of wish you didn't say that," Rebecca grumbled. "Now I'm reminded of that Japanese ghost movie with the camera..."

They went onwards until they came across a heavy-duty automated door ajar and red flashing light streaming out its gap.

They circled around the door and Leon swung a finger as a hushed signal. The two men used their strength to push it open and all charged in slowly.

Inside what seemed like a section into a seemingly-endless tunnel was a man with a white coat on his knees. At both his sides lied three dead corpses as he wept with another in his arms. Emergency red light spun above them, no doubt the news giver of a passing disaster.

"What happened here?" Claire got no answer.

"Sir?"

The stranger did not look back and continued crying softly. Moreover, his ears and sides of his head had been scratched many times. Did he kill these people?

"Nicole... Nicole..." he sobbed.

The behavior was normal, not that of a zombie – which sluggish and senselessly ravenous for human meat. Slowly, they drew closer.

"You are alive... After all these years... I thought you were dead..."

"Sir?" Leon tried again.

"She's there... She's right there..." The man madly pointed at thin air as if the person of his interest was standing before him. The spaces between his words began to lengthen. "...Don't you see her?"

Slowly, every second rising the hair off the team's necks, the man turned...

...and stared at them with complete black eyes, nearly sunken into his face. Pulsating purple veins across his pale non-deteriorating face.

And in his mouth was chewed flesh, torn from the neck of his fallen friend.

"Oh my god," Rebecca uttered with wide eyes.

Zombies, she remembered how they looked. So did Claire and Leon. The walking undead with skin rotting, glass eyes and dried blood from their eaten victims.

The person before them looked like he was between alive and dead.

Zombie didn't quite catch it. It was more like a hungry ghost.

The man glared angrily at them and stood up, his hands reaching for his ears with irritation. Scratching at them. Tearing at them.

"Who are you...?" he demanded, grabbing for a baton from the floor. With a press of a button, the stick electrified. "Stop making those sounds! Who are you! ?"

"Stop," Leon warned, holding his gun up. "I said stop!"

It was as if normal consciousness was moving the man but his actions were nothing human. His walk, though tired, was nothing like the clumsy limping of a walker.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT THAT NOISE! AAAARGH!" He then sprinted towards them with a rose of the stun baton.

"STOP!"

_BANG!_

The man's head flung back with a bullet pierced through and his body dropped back. Leon had no choice. He was armed, about to attack, his mind deranged.

"What was that? Is this what a zombie is?" Vince could barely grasp what he saw.

"Something's different. He...he acted human," Rebecca pointed.

"Yeah, and I've seen this before. Back in Spain," Leon explained. "A village was infected with a parasite. They acted almost normal and fine but they were just hosts–"

A choke startled them back to the fallen man.

Eyes widened at the scene on the floor.

The body convulsed violently as if it was burning from the inside. Skin crumpled off like peeled off paint and fell like ash, cracking away to reveal hideous black and red muscles, from the head down to the toes. Now the dead man looked nothing but a manifested skeletal silhouette of his former self.

Black eyes turned blazing bloodshot and teeth bore as he rose back up. A low growl misted out of him.

Now that was a zombie. Sort of.

"Is this anything like what happened in Spain?" Vince choked.

Leon didn't answer. His eyes were huge from shock.

Nothing from his past prepared him for the horror show before him. This was nothing like the villagers infected with the plagas.

More groans echoed as the rest of the bodies lifted themselves up. To their surprise, the corpses managed to muffle out broken ghastly words as they stared at their visitors with confused, mad and fearful faces. As if they were more afraid of the living than the other way around. Some struggled, clutching shut their ears for a moment.

Like "You're not him" or "her", "Who are you?", "Stop the sound," and most of all...

"I'll kill you."

"Shoot them!"

They didn't need to be told twice by Claire. They let the bullets fly.

The sound of fire brought more towards them from the tunnel. Few fell and stayed dead. Some went through the transformation of darkening and arose a second time. The third time those shadows fell, their forms dissolved away into dust.

"Vince! Lock the door behind us! We can't let them out!"

"Got it!" The second agent hurried back to the heavy duty door. Noticing a console nearby, he hopped over and slammed on the button.

"Unable to close underpass door. Facility power level at minimum. Please manually close door." A mechanical voice of a woman echoed within the section.

"What! ? You got to be kidding me!"

Claire rushed over to the door, leaving the two to continue the battle. "What are you waiting for! ? Come on and help me!"

Vince joined the brunette to the door and together, they hurled it close. It took a while, the door feeling like a ton but they managed it. On the door were a wheel and extra knobs, their color and size looking significant important. The agent gave it a spin and hit the buttons, hearing triple locks click and air vacuuming out.

Above them, a light turned green.

"Manual lock engaged," the voice from above spoke.

"Well, Claire," Leon droned. "There's no turning back."

"Wasn't planning on it."

* * *

><p><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**HCF Soldier**

**Based:** Human

**Created via:** t-virus infection

HCF, also known as the Hive/Host Capture Force, Soldiers are highly trained soldiers under the direction of Wesker and infected with previous viruses Wesker had collected and used on himself, mainly the t-virus. They are quite similar to Wesker but not at his level, having superhuman strength and sharp senses. HCF Soldiers are human in body armour at first glance – the only dead giveaway is their red eyes. They are, however, more resilient than a normal zombie and take longer to kill. Non-helmet soldiers are more likely to be easily killed with a headshot. They are skilled in using all sorts of firearms and hand combat, having complete awareness and control over their viruses to fight.

Upon death, they do not show signs of mutation...yet.

Originally, the HCF was established to locate and retrieve newly discovered viruses and hosts under Albert Wesker during the late 1990s. Recently, a portion of the private military is stationed in Cape Inacio while the rest has dispersed into working in TRICELL, still under Wesker's command. To the public of Cape Inacio, they serve to help civilians from venturing or getting lost too close to the east as half of the island is well-known to be very dangerous. In actual fact, the HCF are to ensure that anyone not an employer or employee is to discover the Theseus Research Facility and the secrets inside.

*****/*/*/*****

**Shade**

**Based:** Human

**Date of creation:** 2006

**Types:** Various, Darkened

**Purpose:** Infection

Shades are creatures created from humans infected with the Kronos virus and serve as one of the primary enemies in Resident Evil: CODE Kronos.

In appearance, Shades are mostly human except for their blackened eyes and discolored skin tones with visible purple veins. They behave and look almost like humans, being able to talk and move. However, they are unable to perceive normally, mistaking nothing as something or something as a threat. If such a threat, Shades will become hostile and attack, more out of fear than mindlessness. They will use melee weapons and firearms if threatened and are in some sense, fully aware. Shades come in different looks: scientists, officers, staff, townsfolk, etc.

Shades in this primary form are between life and dead but have already lost their sense of morality, control of purposeful behaviors and decision making. This indicates that their sense of perception is warped by the virus. Because of these certain losses in the brain, they also have resorted to cannibalism like common zombies and without any awareness they are cannibalizing. This is more likely to spread the disease and/or use the consumed tissue to regenerate decaying tissue. There are two common things about Shades. One is that they see a hallucination, presumably a dead loved one. The other is hearing a certain "sound" that only they individually can hear, which gives the possibility of a hive mind taking control over them. They show irritable behavior from the sound, desperately trying to block it out but in vain. Shades have a tendency to claw at the sides of their heads and ears.

A second version of Shade is called a Darkened. Shades have a dangerous chance of being reanimated and undergoing a spontaneous mutation after being killed. Their skin 'cracks' off to reveal black and red tissue underneath, making them look like walking shadows. They lose complete control and consciousness at this point, no longer talking or being absolutely aware like their counterparts. They are certainly not weaker and unintelligent, despite their looks. A Darkened, combined with a level of intelligence or being under the influence of a hive mind, can worsen a situation. They are more dangerous in the dark and the only indication of their presence is their glowing red eyes. If killed again, a Darkened does not reanimate again.

The name, shade, is common in old literature and poetry, where it is the spirit or ghost of a dead person residing in the Greek underworld. In Hades' underworld, the souls of the dead still existed but were insubstantial and they flitted around the underworld with no sense of purpose. Their lives in the underworld were very neutral and inactive as compared to their lively days. The dead were considered irritable and unpleasant. They grew angry only if they felt a hostile presence near their graves.

The image of an underworld where the dead live in shadow is common to the Ancient Near East, in Biblical Hebrew expressed by the term _tsalmaveth_, literally "death-shadow".

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Fight HCF hostiles.

-Go to the Underpass.

* * *

><p>Vickie: And now we have our first two types of enemies. :D What you think of Shades? The description for the Darkeneds was also partly inspired by Persona series. C:<p>

It took some work on my enemies, based on the virus idea I created. I actually didn't plan on exploring into Greek mythology but ended up discovering shades and the dead in the underworld in the wiki. After that, I thought of using Greek mythology as my base for my enemies so it's kinda like going back to the days of Umbrella naming their specimens with Greek myth names. Lol. Yeah, it feels overused but I can't think of any other to use.

Could have used Norse mythology but…hm. Not too sure.

Anyway, we have one more chapter left of this first game chapter (I hope). What happens next the further they go in? And what is this chess game Wesker plans? Who knows. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. :P Throw out your theories how you think this will unfold.

I will say, this chapter has been the least-troubling (I didn't have ANY PROBLEMS with holes inbetween or pacing out) and the most fun to write. :D Also the parts from CODE Veronica, I've written them in a way they refer to both the PS2 version and Darksides Chronicles. So, whichever your pick.

I've got a question btw. If you guys read above, ash-blond-haired half-Spanish, this is one I'm not too sure. This character is actually part Spanish (Galician) and part Irish sooo what does that label as? I mean I myself get Eurasian (cuz I am one) as being Asian and Caucasian. Just the above mix, I'm not too sure. TELL ME IF I AM WRONG OR RIGHT.

I also plan to make a second fanfic that is relation to this one. A fanfic consisting of documents that give more backstories about CODE Kronos. It's like how you, as players, go collect documents and read them in your spare time. Ahhh, the old days of Resident Evil. If you guys would like that, I'll try to get it up. For each chapter I've written, I'll write a certain number of documents you would pick up.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter and I'd like to greatly thank those who recently favored and fav alerted this story. :D Please read and review and look forward to the next chapter!

Also threw in a reference. Guess which horror game I wrote about. :P


	5. Chapter Four: Above the Abyss

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Above the Abyss<strong>

* * *

><p><em>31 May 2006, 12:08 A.M.<em>

_Level C, Theseus Research Facility_

DEATH AND NEAR DARKNESS foully lurked through the underpass tunnel. It was a pitiful experience, hearing what should have been undead scream out to them in almost rational words. Most of the walkers eventually lost the ability to speak, grumbling unintelligibly but the terror in their twisted faces – it was like an animal backed into a corner with nothing to lose if it fought back. Some looked less human from their own clawing on their faces, ripping off skin and flesh that they were closer to being called undead.

It was almost difficult to pull the trigger.

But the people they encountered within the passage were gone. Beyond help and hope. The two agents, TerraSave member and BSAA medic had to remind themselves and each other that.

Well, only three. Vince had taken the front, shooting down the new form of 'half-undead' without hesitation to push the team further. He had hollered, "We'll be stuck here if we don't shoot our way through! Move!"

It was either the black-eyed zombies or the living. Pick the choices and it'd always be the latter.

After the first few were put down, it felt like it was back to Raccoon City for Leon, Claire and Rebecca. The need to shoot in order to stay alive.

They couldn't stop.

The cluster of Shades, with two or three Darkened ones bursting out from their shallow shells, eventually dispersed deeper in the tunnel.

Another heavy door up ahead and the four went through.

The scene around them mended from grey and red to beautiful dazzlingly blue that the foursome had to take a moment to process the change. The tunnel ceased being made of concrete – being like glass channels at those water attractions where adults and kids could see the marine fish swim by on the other side. The only indication of how far deep the team was at was the printed numbers on the wall. 800 metres below the surface.

It was peaceful. Terrifyingly peaceful.

"When that guy said it was underwater..." Rebecca started, staring amazed at the blue clearness. She sworn she saw a faint outline of a whale in the distance. Glancing down, she gulped at the sight of the black endless pit below them.

"Yeah. He literally meant it," Leon finished.

"Hey, look over there."

Claire pointed out through the glass. Towards the end of the tunnel, they could make out an enormous building. There was no way of knowing the width but by the sight of its height, the building seemed to reach nearly 300 metres from the surface and down, down into the abyss.

Perhaps even as close as the hadal zone... Exaggerated but it was still a frightening thought.

"_**That's**_ the facility?" Vince gasped. "Geez. HELIX has deep pockets to make all of this."

"They are one of the richest companies in the world," Claire said straightforwardly. "Still to afford all this, even a town... HELIX invested a lot on this virus."

"Which means whatever this virus is, it's dangerous," Leon speculated and moved onwards. "Maybe worse than the t-virus..."

The walk down the tunnel was eerily quiet except for their footsteps, despite the breathtakingly stunning scenery around them. The change didn't mean they could drop their guard and admire the beauty. The sign of yet another metal door at the end told them the worst part had yet to hit them. Hard.

Leon and Vince took to the sides and carefully opened the door, Claire swinging her gun through the widened gap. She marched on and the others followed suit, no interruption pouncing onto them unexpectedly.

Serenity from the underwater was immediately dispersed by the red warning lights greeting them again within the dark halls of a more modern and sleek touch. But death had touched the new area – blood smeared across the floor, ceiling and walls. Everywhere.

"Emergency Alert. Backup power level at twenty percent. Underpass entrances must be shut manually before quarantine and evacuation can proceed."

"That does not sound good," Vince uttered with unease at the robotic voice of the announcer.

Not too far from their entrance into the facility, Claire spotted a map. The kind she'd see at any shopping mall. On closer examination, the structure of the level was shaped into a large hexagon, with four sections divided: north, east, south and west. In between the sections, she could make out paths to more underpass entrances – four to be exact, including the one they just entered. All four paths intersected into a circular around around the central, where the symbol of an elevator was at.

"Level C-2. Hydrodam Area." She pointed at the south section, where the marker "Here" was stamped.

Leon examined it as well, tracing his finger along the map until it stopped with a few taps on the northern section, security. "This looks like a good spot to take a breather."

"Yeah. We're struggling with what we got on our hands," Claire pointed. "Supplies would be good."

"That and..." He glanced up to see the slow veering of the watchful mechanical eye above them. "Seems like cameras are still operational. We might be able to find survivors through them."

"If we're heading there, we'll have to head west. This way's blocked off." Following Vince's glance around the rounded corner, they saw the route towards south-east inaccessible by broken debris – perhaps caused something large having once walked through the hall. Yes, there was a gap but it was at the risk of crossing over an electrified puddle. "Place's tearing apart from the inside."

Leon sighed, staring back at the map. "Guess we're taking the long way round."

With all agreeing, they strolled down the right circular hall with hands on guns. As they continued on, it couldn't be helped to cast out eyes on their surroundings. Blood splatter, dead bodies, overturned décor, scattered papers and the casting of claw marking across the concrete and metal walls. Many things, both human and not, had gone down this hall.

It wasn't long until the nearly-dark hall seemed to brighten by yellow light through a long series of windows – the sort one glances through to observe something below for safety reasons.

"Oh my god..."

Behind the glass was a prison block – about two levels high. Below them were rows upon rows of cells, the automatic grate doors wide open.

Looming sluggishly within the block was the undead in orange – with a few security officers and jailers among the crowd. Their condition as infected was just the same as that of the people from the tunnel. Hanging between life and death, with no conscious driving the empty shells.

Oh, was this just bringing Claire back to Rockfort Island. And she didn't like that. A check at the prison's main doors told her that someone had sealed off the block and left these men to die.

Disorder lead people to do foolish decisions...

The scene behind the glass continued on as they ventured down the hall. Hundreds of men below them fallen to the new unknown virus.

The alarming sight teased at Claire's thoughts. When did everything fall apart? This morning? If that was the case, then this virus was firing through hosts rapidly.

_Bang! _

Gunfire whispered through the inner corridor.

"Survivors," Leon uttered.

The noise ahead didn't silence. The group hurried deeper down until they found another similar hall like the one that connected to the underpass.

"Hurry! We got to close the door!"

It was the same episode they experienced themselves not too long ago but played by different participators. One yelling in an odd mixed British accent.

Sure enough, approaching to a similar room as the one they had entered into, the team of four caught sight of four fighters. However unlike them, trained fighters, it was somewhat a wagon of misfits, struggling a bigger size of a horde than the one they squeezed through.

"Dammit, out of ammo!" It was the beholder of the accent. With swift thinking, the young man slid out his monkey wrench from his tool belt and hammered it into a looming shade.

_CRACK!_

The shade's head cracked open like an egg.

Closing the heavy door of the chamber were two people in white: one tall man and one short woman. Scientists.

Their fourth comrade-

"AAAHH!"

One darkened leapt upon the unfortunate security officer and before anyone could help him, his face was immediately chewed off.

"Decker!" The woman screamed out his name, leaping to rescue but was stopped by the other scientist.

"Shit!" An uncharacteristic curse out of the British man.

Then he froze.

His eyes instinctually dropped down.

Another shade. Gunned down but visibly mobile enough to clutch his foot.

"I don't want to die..."

He froze at the wheezing words, the sweat and hint of fear loosening his grip around the tool.

Barely, he noticed the swinging pipe from another coal-eyed man.

_BANG!_

The fire was like a pray answered for the three survivors.

"Quickly, seal the door!"

At Claire's cry, the British hurried to help the scientists, holding as much faith that not only their saviours would not shoot their backs but they'd shoot down the shades before the monsters would make the trio luncheon meat.

* * *

><p>The lock clicked loudly but for good measure, the British blocked the door with the only couch in the room. Vince helped out with the barricading, jamming a metal cupboard to place.<p>

"That should hold them off," he grunted.

"Is it a good idea to stay here?" Rebecca asked worriedly.

"For the time being yes," one of the scientists, the short one, answered. "Better here than out there."

After locking up the heavy door in the north-west section of the underwater hexagon building, the tall scientist quickly proposed them to make haste to the control room, which wasn't far from that exit. The group of people had no choice but to abandon the fallen officer. It was clear that he died instantly after his face was torn off and already, the shades had nibbled at anything that was exposed.

Claire examined their three guests now that they were out of danger.

The mechanic, Bryce Parish along with rich blond hair and frightened pale eyes dropped onto the couch. First glance of his uniform was that of a mechanic working in the facility, oddly combined to his jock-like physique. Even so, a step in his pace during the attack betrayed him of an age-old leg injury underneath his pant legging.

The deceased officer's name was Decker – the second group's only firearm specialist.

The scientists, well, out of the three, Claire had not put her guard on. That accursed shade of white within the same walls of zombies and monsters said flat out "Yes, we're responsible for this virus."

That was the first glance, however.

The tall scientist, fishing out what looked like a box of toothpick, was named Victor Fisker – a mature looking man with a very dark shade of brown for a slightly-grown flattop haircut and casual clothing of a sweater, pants and comfy shoes belted together with his own taser gun holster. Pinched on his pants' pocket was an ID card of his. The tiredness in his green eyes had told her there had been worse nights he had seen.

The short one, Katherine Raschke, with round glasses and frizzly hair, took to the chair in the surveillance room but stopped.

"Hey," Leon called out to Victor.

"Oh no."

At the sound of the short scientist's utter, Victor rushed over to her.

"Hey," Leon demanded with a hint of irritation at being ignored.

Inside the control room, the monitors flashed warning signs but no matter how hard the second scientist hit the buttons, there was no response to the machines.

"Bryce," Victor called out and right off the sofa, the mechanic joined them at the dashboard.

"Might be fried from the power out earlier. I can check the insides but if it's technical, then I can't do much."

"I could help with that," Katherine proposed. "Well, with what I know, actually."

"Give it your best shot. We got to get this working," Victor ordered calmly.

"Hey!" Leon uttered. The tall scientist turned to the response while already, the mechanic dropped to his knees and fiddled with the screws.

"Look, I know you need answers but there are more pressing matters. We need to put out eyes and ears out there."

Victor pulled out a small radio transmitter, state-of-the-art kind, and fidgeted with the dial. Only static and that darkened his face.

"There are others?" Rebecca asked with a tint of hopefulness.

"Anyone not on a suicide mission should have been out and gone to town by now," was Victor's straight answer.

"Suicide?" Claire repeated.

"You came from one of the emergency exits, right?" he asked. "You closed it?"

"Had no choice with those undead trying to get out," Vince murmured as he slouched back to a wall.

"That makes three exits closed so far. We've got several teams out there trying to shut the rest of the exits." Victor grumbled through his toothpick. "Only problem is they're in the dark."

So priority was still the same. Lock down the facility to prevent the infected from coming out.

"What's the situation's like?" Leon asked calmly, seeing probing for answers was out until the problem was solved.

Victor straightened up from the radio, his hands dropped into baggy pockets. "Four teams. Two on the second floor and two this floor, us being one of them. Contact's weak between floors with the servers down and these talkies only go so far a range." His shoulders slugged with worry. "We've not heard from the other team for a while now."

"They'll be fine," Katherine, in her seat, uttered without hesitation.

The comment surprised Victor by a bit and soon he found himself agreeing with her.

"Well, they have one hell of a kid with them. We'll just have to wait till we hear word." Victor ditched away his chewed, soaked stick and pulled out another one. "Want one? Only thing stopping my smoking habit."

"Um, no thanks," Leon declined with a shake of his hand.

"But you want answers. Seeing we can't do much but wait." A loud clank of a metal sheet hit the concrete floor as Byrce dug deep into the machine. "I'm sorry about just now."

Leon shook his head. "Everyone's on edge." He understood. He had been down that lane many times. "What _is_ this virus?"

The most important question of the day. Victor didn't object in both body and vocal language.

"What's happening right now is because of a virus called the Kronos Virus," Victor began, taking a seat on the edge of the dashboard. "You've seen the results so far. It's not your normal virus."

Normal, being that a virus infected the dead and brought them back. The Kronos Virus, it took a whole new level.

"And you worked on it?" Claire inquired in a manner of confirming the notion.

Victor nodded openly. "I'm just a microbiologist but pretty much, that virus has gone through all our hands."

"Same. I'm a molecular biology tech," Katherine added.

"Um," Bryce's voice caught the attention of the people in the room as he timidly raised his hand like a school kid. "I'm just a mechanic."

It was a grave mistake he made. Now all eyes were on him, many with eyebrows raised. Victor gave a staggering look that said, "What are you going on about?"

Bryce coughed at how ridiculously obvious that was. "Sorry." He then returned back to work at hand.

Victor coughed to steer the awkwardness away. "As Bryce here is trying to make a point, anyone who's not involved in the Kronos project would be other scientists on other projects and staff."

"Projects?" Leon echoed.

"Basically HELIX's merchandise. Practically this whole island is the main reason why the company is as it is today. The decongestant you keep in your medicine cabinet is made from ingredients found here. Same place where the Kronos Virus's precursor originated from. This island has an old virus naturally isolated here. Named the Protogonos Virus"

Claire grumbled under her breath. "Another one?"

Victor shook his hand, indicating she didn't have to be afraid. "Don't worry. It's harmless. Only infects insects and animals."

"And HELIX decided to create a better virus from this old one," Leon pieced it together.

"A better virus is undermining it." It was an unexpected comment, sparking further curiosity out of the four newcomers.

"What do you mean?" Leon pried.

"The Kronos virus has two traits. One is it's a retrovirus. Layman's terms – it copies itself as part of any organism's DNA by reverse transcribing the RNA. But unlike typical retroviruses, the Kronos is capable of doing that in a symbiosis manner. Two is its capability – it can absorb traits of another virus to make them as their own, bringing out new variants of it. We call this 'devouring'.

Both those traits are both its strengths and weaknesses. The Kronos needs a different virus strand as a catalyst to," he coughed, disliking what he would say next. "Bring out its potential as a deadly virus. On its own, it's only half the danger. You can label it as a ticking time bomb waiting for a grenade to trigger them both off."

"Wait," Vince then stopped him. "It needs another virus? Exactly what virus happening here is that?"

"Most of everything you see is a result when the t-virus is combined with a Kronos virus."

It was a straightforward answer that Victor did not hesitate in replying. The answer alarmingly stirred up the three survivors of Raccoon City.

"The t-virus?" Claire gasped nervously.

"Among other things," Victor explained grimly. "Does the names, G-Virus and T-Veronica, ring bells?"

Claire jumped. But unexpectedly with a rush beneath her boots.

The last name.

T-Veronica Virus.

No. Calm down.

If they had it, that meant they would have Steve's body, whether alive or dead. But they could have bought the virus like Leon's incident in South America.

That didn't prove anything.

Leon was the first to notice the sudden reaction out of Claire, even if he reacted at hearing the familiar G-Virus. However, he kept quiet noting Claire wouldn't say much as she slowly, wearily sat back down.

"It's possible the Kronos Virus has combined with all of them, right?" Leon continued the conversation.

"Possible but if you mean out in the open and not in a petri dish, then we have no idea how spiralling the results can be."

"Many of our specimens and tests are a result of constantly and artificially picking the traits for the Kronos to devour," Katherine pointed. "But for those uninfected, that's another story."

"How does one get infected?" Rebecca asked. One good point to worry about.

"The Kronos virus is transmitted via blood or if you're dumb enough, consumption of an infected. So we're generally safe for the time being." Victor gave out a silent pause, regretting those words in the process. "Poor choice of words. You either are eaten alive or bitten to become a carrier..."

"You're pretty open about giving strangers information."

Victor huffed. "Why should I keep my mouth shut now? Like I'd keep these secrets to my grave for those bastards." In narrowed irritation, he exchanged his now-old toothpick for a new one. "Hung us by the noose for eleven years so we could obediently make the most dangerous bioweapon since '98."

"You were held here against your will," Leon stated.

"The first two years, no. But HELIX didn't give all the details to us when we signed for this job. Just a simple, "You are going to save lives with this research." Hmph!" Victor ditched away his finished toothpick with frustration. "Now we're the damn terrorists and HELIX's gonna brush this off with a clean sheet."

Katherine slugged her shoulders down, frowning with regret. The expressions Claire, Leon and Rebecca were seeing were very much different from the ones they had seen on the faces of corrupted minds. Guilt. These people had a hand in crafting a virus at point blank and now, they would be responsible for many deaths.

Rebecca had an urge to say, "It wasn't your fault" but to them, it sounded more like a lie. Nothing to look forward to hearing.

So instead, she said, "We won't let that happen."

It surprised the two scientists out of their struggling emotions. They glanced at her, dumbfounded at first but a bit positive.

"HELIX's responsible for this in the first place. They locked you up against your will. We won't let them get away with it."

"She's right," Claire joined in, her TerraSave side stepping forth. "You are the victims here."

"...You're going to need a lot of evidence to prove HELIX had a hand in this. They'll just shift the blame on all of us." Victor cupped his chin, his elbow resting on his knee. "And this is HELIX we're talking about. I don't see us getting justice for all the crap they've put us through."

"You got one BSAA, a Terrasave and two federal agents," Claire said. "I think we're enough to cover all of you."

Victor nearly broke out a soft laugh. Four strangers saving over eight thousand people. He then heaved a heavy sigh, partly out of relief. "Well, then we better get you lot out alive. Can't have you four dying on us."

"Done!" Bryce hollered with glee, alerting all of the people of their seats like there was a white elephant in the room. He got up, flipped a switch and thank the Lord, the control panel lit up alive.

Katherine skipped onto the chair and her fingers immediately ran across the keyboard with Bryce overseeing to see any sparking problems out of the panel's electronics.

"Let's hope the other teams have shut off the other doors by now." Victor turned his attention back to the radio. "Come in. It's Victor. Do you read me?"

No answer. He tried again.

And with that, the outsiders stood stiff, leaving the trio to their work. There was no need to interrupt or step in. More in numbers wouldn't quicken the step any more.

"What should we do, Leon?" Claire asked.

Leon glanced about but there was nothing much they could do. "We may just as well head out and double-check on these doors. Maybe along the way, find this other team." He then noticed something, or someone amiss, narrowing down one eyebrow. "Where's Vince?"

Halfway through the conversation, the federal rookie had wandered off to a back room where surveillance equipment was stationed – ones that seemed to record and store data into the large black machines at the back.

"What are you doing?"

Vince didn't flinch, simply wheeled around to see his teammates enter. "Isn't it obvious? Trying to figure out what the hell happened in this place."

"Why does that matter?" Rebecca asked. If anything, the answer was clear as day. "Power failed and that released this virus out in the open."

"Yeah, but what caused the power failure? We have a powerfully high-tech facility gone to hell. Sounds like an inside job to me."

That perked at Leon's interest. "If I were to guess, Wesker has a hand on this."

"Yeah, but he seems like the mafia boss type, right? May have been his lackey who did his word." Round and round his finger went on the rewind button and he muttered. "These are some awful angles. Looks like they're just the halls and stairs-"

"Wait, stop!"

Vince hit the pause button at the quick demand but cast a confused look at Claire. "What? You see something?"

Suddenly, nearly shoving Vince away, Claire took to the controls and rewound the videos. Among the monitors, she had only just missed it by a few seconds. At first, she couldn't believe what she had seen but it went back so fast for her mind to take it in.

Claire hit the play button once she had found the right time on one particular monitor.

It was a view aiming down from the ceiling of an elevator. Down on the floor with his back slumped against the wall was another scientist, badly wounded. There was no way to tell what condition he was for the lines of white noise and pixels distorted the image.

And standing before the bleeding scientist was a familiar green monster.

She couldn't see it whole. But she recognized the staggering red wound along its spine. The red hair.

The monster lifted up its clawed hand just as the scientist launched forward as if all his energy went into trying to escape.

And off went the scientist's head.

Claire couldn't tear her eyes away, regardless if the rest of the video after that meant nothing.

Was that him? No, couldn't be. No.

Her mind struggled to deny what she saw.

But if it were true...then he really...

No.

Couldn't be.

"That was him, wasn't it?"

She turned around. Claire hadn't realized it but her hands had rolled up into shaken palms and her breathing was rapid.

Clear signs that Leon read too easily.

"That was Steve. Am I right?"

Claire bit her lip. Leon wasn't there at Antarctica but he had read Chris' report. Despite how brief it had been written, Leon was already piecing together the puzzle from Claire's reaction.

Rebecca looked back at the screen, shocked.

"Are we missing a story here?" Vince asked, a futile question.

"Claire, you saw him. That wasn't Steve anymore."

It stunk at her. Partly because Leon was right.

Claire had been searching for a dead body to bury. Then she was given hope that Steve was alive. And now...

"No..." Her voice was weak. She needed proof. The angle didn't show his face. That wasn't Steve.

"He killed a person!"

"No!" Claire hollered, glaring straight at Leon's furrowed face. "That-That's not him!"

The tension tightened within the small group, only Rebecca and Vince being the outcasts. Leon stayed firm, the reality sticking like glue whereas Claire was slowly breaking, her body language saying her plead. Give her enough time to find the evidence. It was too early to pass verdict.

"That-"

GRAAA-BOOOM!

A groan erupted through the walls as if the facility was speaking out in pain. All of a sudden, the room they stood shook beneath their feet.

It was a short quiver.

But still an alarming one.

"Shit! Shit! _**Shit!**_" A cry – out of the mechanic's mouth – from back the control room lured the group back to the impending vulnerability at hand.

"What's going on?" Leon uttered.

The tall scientist and mechanic were looming over the small shoulders of the woman, still at the panel. The control monitors flashed red and numbers.

Victor fought every fibre to curse. Simply just bit harder on his toothpick. "One problem after another, that's what. The hydrodam generators are failing on us now."

"And that's bad because?" Rebecca asked timidly.

"Two things: One, we lose our backup power. Two, we lose pressure inside the facility."

"Which means once they go, the whole place is going to flooded." The mechanic then moaned. "And we're losing pressure too fast."

"Can you fix it?" Leon strolled in a quick pace to the panel.

Katherine shook her head, her fingers hitting desperately at the keys. "No. It's a problem at the hydrodam itself. I-I can't fix it from here."

"How did this happen?" Vince hollered.

"Does it matter? We're gonna drown soon," Victor replied. "We got to go down there fast."

Just before the tall scientist turned to the closed door, he was stopped by Leon.

Already Leon predicted. Despite Victor's reputation as the ones responsible for the mess they are in, the tall man was going to run down to the hydrodam area for the root of the problem.

A man in a suicide-mission team. All three on a route that would likely get themselves killed regardless of the ammo and quick thinking.

But in Leon's book, he was still a victim. Katherine and Bryce were still victim.

"You said you can be eyes and ears here, right?" Leon uttered the question. "If so, be our eyes and ears as well."

Victor's eyes bugged out as they jumped from Leon to his three teammates. He understood where this was going but the plan had to be a crazy idea.

"...Channel fourteen," Victor finally said, noticing the radio in Leon's possession. "That's the channel we're communicating through. Follow the hall down to the south section, east side. Pressure control is first to your right. Once you get there, call us."

Leon nodded and all four headed out, the door shutting behind them.

* * *

><p>"We're here!"<p>

A mad dash down the circular hall and through a wandering pack of Shades under a matter of three adrenaline-filled minutes. And all under near pitch darkness with the backup power slowly dying.

Thrilling, Rebecca thought.

"_You should see a control panel,_" Victor echoed through the radio's end.

"Here!" Claire waved her hand, directing the team to one small console.

"_We can't control the hyydrodam's system from way up here. You got to reboot the system manually down there. Red button, hurry!_" Katherine now took over the radio.

She did as she was told and the monitor flickered with data. "Got it!"

"_Ok, I can control the turbines from here. Turning them on... Now!_"

At the signal of the scientist's yelp, the red lights brightened up the whole hydrodam Area. Good. That meant power was back on... Well, backup anyway.

Another shake of the whole room, however, dimpled at their ray of hope.

"What happened?" Leon uttered.

"_Sorry! Turning on turbines means the pressure gets higher. We need to get it back in control now!_"

"Couldn't you have warned us that! ?" Vince shouted.

"What's next?"

"_Um, y-yellow valves. You got to turn the yellow valves. All six of them._"

"Go!" Leon rushed the group apart, he sprinting about in search of a yellow valve. One by one, each teammate turned the valve.

"_It's lowering! Keep it up!_"

"Shit! Incoming!"

_BANG!_

Vince fired at a wandering Shade. More swarmed through the area's entrance.

"Rebecca, Claire! Keep looking!" Leon joined his partner to the shooting.

The race was still going and now the undead was going to make it all the more difficult. Claire zigzagged across the mass of pipes and machinery until she spotted one lone yellow valve.

She turned it around.

"Claire!" Not too far from her was Rebecca, at the last valve. "It's struck!"

Claire hurried over, her hands gripping onto the metal ring. Rebecca was right – it was rusted.

"Come on! Pull!" Claire turned with everything she got. So did Rebecca.

A loud thud and the valve turned.

"Yes!" the girls cheered.

"_You did it! Pressure's going down!_"

_BANG!_

The last Shade dropped with a large hole in his head.

"Clear." Leon scanned around for more walkers but the moment seemed quiet for the time being.

"_Oh, thank god. We got it under control._"

"So we're out of danger?"

"_A bit too early for that but_ _for now, yeah. Let's just hope this facility hasn't gotten too much damage from all those shakes. Or else we'd be at the bottom of the ocean,_" Victor responded.

"Ok. Seriously didn't want that scenario painted in my mind now," the New Yorker groaned, imagining the underwater building going down like a tree into an abyss.

"_I found them!_" Katherine suddenly blurted out from the other end. Her voice hinted with happiness. "_Victor! I found them!_ _They're alive!_"

"_Jesus,_" Victor sighed. "_What the heck have they been up to?_"

"Who's they?" Leon asked.

"_The other team on this floor. For a moment, I thought we'd lost-_" He stopped. "_Wait, where's Kiddo?_"

"_Oh no._" Katherine's tone changed to that of worry. "_HCFs. They're in trouble!_"

"_Dammit! Why are they still here! ?_"

"Where are they?" Leon asked, all four sensing the urgency at play.

"_They're in the same place as you are at. Further inside. Hurry!_"

And just before the four could sprint, gunshots boomed from afar.

"Flamin' hell! These HCFs just won't quit!"

It was unexpected, echoing from deep within the hydrodam section with the loud bangs of fire.

"That voice," Leon uttered. A short moment of amazement flashed on their faces. For once, fate was helping them out.

"Well, then! Follow the gunshots," Vince droned.

They ran up a set of stairs to a long narrow system of catwalks that overlooked the machinery. It took a while turning left and right but once into a much bigger area, where two enormous dams stationed – the turbines spinning alive – they spotted a group of three fighting against a few HCF thugs.

Just like the trio from before, it was a group of oddities. From first glance, it was a security captain, a scientist and a prisoner.

The Australian wore the same standard uniform like any other security officer, sleeves rolled up, but was well-prepared for hell on Earth with a shoulder hostler and light body armor. His brown once-trimmed crew cut had grown a little, along with a six o'clock shave, giving him a rough edge

In a full orange jumpsuit, the narrow-built African American inmate with a light black afro pitched his chosen weapon, a crowbar, right into the neck of one HCF soldier. He deliberately aimed for a gun wound, tearing more into it and clipping further into an artery. In seconds, blood drained out and his enemy fell with a thud.

The only woman in the group, the glasses-wearing scientist, glared furiously at the soldiers after them as she fired her gun. Her white coat was open wide with rolled sleeves but underneath, she was very unprofessional – light batwing t-shirt, Bermuda pants and causal slip-on sneakers. Even her long wavy blond hair was messily tied up but tidiness was the least of her worries. Around her neck was a lanyard with her ID card.

One striking trait about her was the long, complicated tattoo stretching from under her sleeve down to the rest of her left arm, bearing a riddling illustration. Something very uncharacteristic of a scientist that one could mistake her as a convict dressing up in white.

"Look out!" the inmate hollered to her.

The woman did just that but she was too slow wheeling around in time against the charging HCF soldier with a knife in hand.

_BANG!_

The whistling of Leon's bullet came near her left and straight through the forehead of the soldier. With the last HCF dead, the three wheeled around to see the newcomers on the catwalk.

"I take it you're Kent?" Leon asked, now that the chaos had died.

The Australian officer raised his eyebrows with disbelief, then smirked. "And you must be Leon. You four are out of your mind to be waltzing down here."

"You need all the help you can get."

The Aussie noticed his teammates. "More agents with you?"

"Just him and me. These two are from BSAA and TerraSave."

"TerraSave?" the blonde repeated with a hint of surprise, the hazel eyes immediately fixed on Claire. "...You're Claire Redfield?"

Now Claire was surprised herself at the guess.

A smile slowly stretched across the blonde's astonished face. It was almost like the scientist couldn't believe her eyes and ears. "You're really her?"

"Y-Yes?"

A small laugh escaped from the blonde's mouth. "My message went through. I can't believe this." Unexpectedly, she grabbed her by the arms as if to be absolutely sure Claire was real. Not a figment of her imagination. "You're here! You're really here... Steve will be happy to see you!"

The name bugged her eyes wide. It took a while for Claire to understand why but hearing that from the stranger before her, she was able to connect the dots.

"You're Iria McLenlan," she softly hissed.

The scientist's expression twirled with confusion from the strange tone. "What?"

And then she was put at gunpoint.

"Claire!" Rebecca yelled.

"Are you crazy! ?" the inmate hollered.

The sudden threat forced Kent to raise his shotgun dead aimed at Claire. Leon, however, held up his gun at him, yelling, "Stop!"

"Put down your weapon!" Kent ordered.

"Ah hell," Vince groaned, gun up as well. "Now she's going AWOL."

"Claire, what are you doing?"

She didn't reply to Leon, eyes fixed on the blonde. "Tell me. What did you do to Steve?"

The woman, Iria, didn't speak while holding up her arms frightfully but the shock was a clear dead giveaway.

"So it _**is**_ true!" The grip tightened. "What did you do to him?"

The scientist's eyebrows furrowed upwards.

Guilt.

It was something she never anticipated reading from her. And that pierced more into Claire's anger. Why? Why was she looking like that?

"Put it down!" Kent demanded. "We don't have any time for this shenanigan. We have other matters, dammit!"

"Wesker said you were the one in charge."

Iria grimaced at the name. "Of course, that bastard..."

"I've not gotten any answers since I got here. So tell me now," Claire demanded. "What did you do to him?"

Everything was still within the gripping tension. The blonde didn't speak straight away but eventually seemed calmer, dropping her arms.

And with that look again.

"Tell me now!"

Leon tried to persuade. "Claire-"

"Would telling you everything make it better?"

The question from the scientist didn't sway Claire to put down the gun. It did, however, make her tighten it and bite the inside of her mouth.

Iria simply remained calm.

"If it was me in your shoes, I would have shot me down in a second," she admitted with accepting, tiring eyes.

And the penitence in them puzzled Claire.

Out of the blue, within the tense moment, the catwalk shifted beneath their feet. Stances with guns weakened as everyone looked about for the source of the minor earthquake.

Something was coming their way.

"That sounds very big," the inmate uttered fearfully.

Along with the rumbling, footsteps echoed below them. Running down the ground level of the hydrodamn section was another person.

"GAAAAAROOOO!"

The man below looked over his shoulder at the horrific howl of an animal in anguish. The four wavering glows peering from the dark entrance galloped swiftly towards him.

He ducked.

Zooming over him was a towering monster on all fours. A near-hairless muscular dog with disgusting boils and the rib bones protruding through the chest and out the back. Its very mass seemed to tear at its own hideous skin, brimmed with thick bristles.

It circled around and four bulging eyes, two unevenly within a red groove that set in-between its face, hungrily stared at the man.

The red groove then tore apart.

It was a sickening sound as the head split open, bearing flesh and more canines. The half-heads were not thin from the divide as they both were inflated from the inside to equal width of the original.

It was bigger than the average zombie dog and double the trouble.

"Iria, do you remember a giant two-headed BOW on the list?" Kent asked, now pointing the shotgun at the creature.

"No, you?"

"No."

"GAAAAAROOOO!"

"In other words, this is a new one," Iria snapped.

It was fortunate for the two groups being too high up but unfortunate for the mutt's prey at the bottom.

The man in his twenties backing away from the huge mutant dog looked quite young. He could almost be mistaken as one of the men under Captain Williams' squad at first glance but his taste in clothing altered most of the standards. Probably that was to feel comfortable under the island's tropical atmosphere. Cargo pants, borrowed boots and an open collared security shirt over a t-shirt.

However, he was no officer. Not with the phase he was going – perhaps still young at heart and not in body. On his ears were ring studs with a small unusually cross-shaped pendant linked to one. Tattooed, or perhaps burned into his neck like cattle was the black number "0267". The electrical collar with a part of the strap being stretchable was nothing of fashion, however.

Claire widened her eyes and swallowed. Her heart seemed to constrict within her.

The familiar red hair.

It was almost like seeing ghost from the past, even if there were slight differences.

She opened her mouth.

"Steve!"

To Claire's shock, the scientist had beaten her to the punch, worriedly hollering out his name before Claire did.

The redhead glanced up, about to call back.

Then he stopped. Green eyes as wide as dinner plates. His body stiffed on the spot.

"Claire?" he uttered with disbelief.

It wasn't an illusion. Not a hoax. Claire felt herself go weak and to the point of crying and laughing.

Steve was alive. Right before her.

It was rather anti-climax actually.

Just as she stared at him with the utmost disbelief and awe, his eyes were too focused on Claire to notice the giant two-headed monster coming his way.

"KIDDO, RUN!" Iria screamed.

At the warning, he turned back and quickly jumped aside.

The mutant dog missed but it rammed straight into a support beam of the catwalk. The catwalk shook violently as the people onboard held for dear life.

However, the one section where Claire and Iria stood on broke apart.

"Claire!" Leon cried out, reaching out but his hand missed her by a fraction of an inch.

The metal section, one side still floppy to the rest of the catwalk, swayed with an loud creak that any minute it would break off and fall. Iria had luckily grabbed hold of a bar of the railing and her other free hand lashed onto Claire.

"Claire! Doc!" Steve hollered anxiously.

Two swinging people in midair drew the attention of the monster. The four eyes locked on the two ladies.

"Shoot it!" Rebecca fired first, followed by Leon.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

However, bullets didn't seem to change its mind. Two wavering tongues dripped with thick saliva.

Claire shrieked, eyes wide at the crooked sets of teeth nearing. Her savior gripped her hand harder, desperately pulling her up but with only one hand, Iria couldn't bring Claire further away from the canines.

"NO!" Steve rushed over, pointing up a familiar pair of lugers. Golden but worn.

_BANG! BANG!_

That simply irritated the giant dog.

"GAAAAAROOOO!"

The two-headed tonsured mongrel suddenly thrust its shoulder at the redhead, merely flinging him like he was nothing but a fly scraping across the floor.

"Steve!"

It certainly had gotten its full attention on the fallen redhead, now gripping at his chest. Maybe from a broken rib.

A harsh growl stirred the officer and the prisoner to one end of the catwalk.

"We got company!" Kent shouted.

At the summoning of the giant monster's howl, shades wailed into the scene.

"Dammit! They're coming this way too!" Vince fired at another swarm filling from the other end. Trapped like rats on both sides, the group excluding the two women fired at the shades.

Only Leon slid swiftly to the edge of the broken section, trying to figure out how to get two women up from so far away.

"Steve!" Claire cried out again. She had to get down there but below her was water, not metal surface.

The monstrous dog stalked slowly towards him, his body cowering, hunched down from pain.

"No... Please, no..." Steve whimpered, as if frantically trying to convince himself of something. "Not now."

Claire's wide eyes widened with horror as the redhead glanced up, green veins snaking across his skin.

The color red engulfed those sweet eyes she remembered, green irises eerily blazing out.

Holding back a soft painful groan, Steve huddled down in preparation for what was to come and for all to see. Whether he liked it or not. Before everyone's eyes, muscles rippled beneath skin, bleaching into grey-green and irregularly patterned with hard plating. With the growing mass and bone, it pulled at his clothes – thankfully with resilient fabric – and exposed tears that had been there from previous times of his metamorphosis but it didn't come to a point he'd be a tyrant in shorts and ripped clothing. Even his boots and jacket, he had thrown them off to spare them from the growing spurs out from his back and shoulders and thick reptilian feet. His hands elongated into claws and the tell-tale bloodless wound crept down the spine.

It was quite a shallow version of his past monster self, even more biologically armored but it didn't change the fact, he had changed. Just like that in the video.

The terrifying thought Claire had been dreading came true.

Out of the group on the catwalk, only the officer and scientist were the least surprised. The prisoner, mildly surprised.

"He's mutated too! ?" Vince hollered but drew back his attention to a wandering shade with snapping teeth.

It was like seeing a show attraction of some newly-discovered beast. The monster cowered back, as if trying to find some hole and stay there. Looking about at the eyes on him, he ended up being locked staring at Claire.

For some reason, as if the human part was still behind the wheel, the monster gave a hurtful and sad expression. That the one person he was looking forward to meeting again was seeing the ugly side of him.

"Steve!"

He glanced to the scientist with a lost look that seemed to beg her for some advice. Tell him what to do next.

"I know this isn't a good time and place to be transforming," the scientist yelled. "But talk later, _**fight now**_!"

That snapped the green humanoid to see the bigger issue – the two-headed monster howling at him.

The only good side out of this was that he was almost on the same level as the mutt.

Almost for the fact it was still bigger than he was.

It lunged at him with bearing fangs.

Leon unclasped his hand set on his holstered pistol, having first prepared to shoot if the green monster was a threat. But rescuing the ladies was more important. "Hold on!"

"What does it look like I'm doing! ?" Iria hissed quietly, looking back down at the brunette. "I'm going to swing you over."

"You!" Claire barked. It didn't make it any better that her life was in this scientist's hands. "You made him be that!"

"Stop struggling," Iria whined, feeling the stress in her hindered arm. "I can't pull you up."

"You turned a human into a monster! Why should I believe anything you say? You're no better than that woman who gave him the virus!"

Iria gave a...remorseful look.

Claire was almost ready to taunt her. Go ahead. Drop her. Then she would be right.

All the bull she had heard from the audio, all the emotions she felt pouring out, they were all a fraud. The scientist was just like anyone else in the line of bioweapon engineering, putting their creations first before others.

She was just like Birkin. She was just like Alexia.

"...Yes. Yes, I'm the one responsible. That's what you want to hear, right?"

Finally. It was the response Claire waited to hear right out of her mouth. This horrible woman. She brought back Steve's change into the mindless humanoid from the past.

"But does that change who he is?"

And that was a surprising comeback. One that quivered her fury away.

"I don't see a monster. Do you?" the scientist demanded, waiting for an answer out of the TerraSave member.

A quick glance to the battle between a green reptilian hulk and a demonic giant dog before her eyes went back to the scientist.

There wasn't a jump onto Claire to end her life with a battleax. No merciless, animal roars escaping from his mouth. Rather than the beast taking over him, it was the other way around and using it against his opponent.

"He's still Steve. And nothing's going to change that."

Claire was astounded to hear that from the blonde.

"Now swing over and go tell him yourself that he's not a freak!"

It was a startling forceful order. Like something she'd hear from an overprotective parent, if circumstances were different. Like she had called someone a bad name and was told to apologise back.

With all her might, Iria swiped her with enough momentum until Claire grabbed one of the bars on the other railing. Carefully, Claire climbed up until she saw Leon's reaching open palm.

"Come on! Grab my hand!"

She took it.

Seeing the brunette now safe, Iria tried to ascent as well. Slowly. The creaking metal sound was just tempting her to hurry with trickery.

_CRACK!_

"Whoa!" The bar tilted in her hands. The whole world rose up around her and water engulfed her in seconds.

Claire looked down, horrified but was relieved to see Iria swimming up from a pool below.

_KA-CRACK!_

She felt the railing leave her one hand but Leon held on the other tight.

The loud sound alerted Iria to look up. Now the whole broken catwalk was falling onto her from the rippling of the broken bar's aftermath.

"Hostia!" She dove back down into the water.

_SLOSH!_

The giant piece of metal descended hard with waves gushing out.

"Iria!" Kent screamed out from above. The inmate stared from the railing with terrified eyes and yelled too. "Iria!"

The call had wheeled Steve away from the howling giant dog. Dread consumed him when he noticed the hanging scientist no longer there. His red worried eyes streamed down to the ripples in the pool.

She was gone.

"Doc..." It was a raspy, almost animal voice but within the tones, it was still his voice. And it was shaking, thick with fear. His legs gave a slow start and the emotion inside him pushed the green monster to sprint towards the pool. "DOC!"

Dropping his guard was a mistake, the giant dog monster pouncing.

"UGH!" One of the mouths filled with many canines bit onto his right arm. In a desperate attempt, Steve shot his other free claw onto the muzzle of the other head to stop it from clamping onto his shoulder. "Doc!"

"We got to save Iria!" The inmate rushed over to the other end, spying a ladder not too far. He immediately halted at once as more shades began flooding in.

"Dammit! We're wasting time!" the Aussie cursed and fired his rounds.

Everyone's attention was to their enemies.

Claire's, however, was fixed to the water surface.

_Hey... Come on already..._

Bubbles fluttered to the surface but the blonde never resurfaced.

_This is a joke, right? Who are you trying to fool?_

"Claire, I got you!"

Her body went up but she gripped on a metal piece to stop her from going onwards. She hadn't realized she had frozen, still staring down. Hoping.

But the woman still didn't swim back up.

"Claire!"

There was no one to save her.

Claire didn't want that. She didn't like the idea of another death paid for her life.

But this woman, she admitted it...

That kind of person should die for such a deed.

The image of a head scientist developing a virus, who would protect that over anyone, even his family, was powerfully imprinted in Claire's mind. And she had met that kind of person. Twice.

But the woman was the completely opposite.

_"I don't know if Iria did or didn't do anything to Steve... But I don't believe she's a bad person."_

In what seemed like time had slowed down, she recalled the words from Rebecca. Claire recapped back to the audio. The woman's concern, her plead for the outside world, for Claire herself, to save the island's residents. And right in the hydrodam section, the scientist's actions told a hundred times more than words.

And the green monster, seemingly human in mind, the man she knew as Steve, wanted to save the scientist.

He called her Doc. She called him kiddo.

There was more of a story behind this scientist. All Claire had been doing was jumping onto assumptions because of the blanks. Nowhere closer to the truth.

'_There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses.'_

Claire tightened her eyes, not out of indecision or frustration.

"Leon, let go of me."

He stared at her bewildered. "What?"

"Let go! Now!"

It was a split second, spying her determined reason behind those blue eyes. What she planned to do was suicide.

But nobody on the catwalk could save the drowning blonde.

He then let go.

* * *

><p><strong>Steve Burnside<strong>

_White Knight_

**Date of Birth:** 1981

**Date of Death:** December, 1998

**Date of Revival:** 2000

**Age:** 25 (23, excluding two years of death)

**Blood Type:** AB

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** Specimen

**Teammate Class:** Assault

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Fire axe

Primary – Luger (Semi-automatic pistol)

Secondary – Shotgun

**Stats (Human):**

Strength: ***

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ***

Wits: ***

Speed: ****

Endurance: **

**Stats (Tyrant):**

Strength: *****

Stamina: ****

Accuracy: -

Wits: ***

Speed: **

Endurance: ****

**Ability:**

***/*/*/***

**Iria McLenlan**

_White Queen_

**Date of Birth:** 1968

**Age:** 38

**Blood Type:** B

**Gender:** F

**Race/Nationality:** Mixed Spanish/American

**Occupation:** Head Director

**Teammate Class:** Interference

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Taser

Primary – Taser Gun, Shadow (Semi-automatic pistol)

Secondary – Ruger (Submachine gun)

**Stats:**

Strength: **

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ***

Wits: *****

Speed: ****

Endurance: **

**Ability:**

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Help survivors shut Level C North-Western Gate

-Head to the hydrodam area

-Find the pressure valves

-Follow the gunfire

* * *

><p>Vickie: I FINALLY FINISHED! GOD! I took too long on this one cuz of the pacing. Actually I had wanted to put the boss battle in here but I think it'll excess my chapter limit (not FFN, mine. Trying to not make these chapters too long). So I guess each episode is bout four to five chapters. Next one will be the last of this episode, people. YAY!<p>

And yes! We see Steve Burnside after like what…eight years? In any case, yes, he's still infected. Yes, he's in the same situation as these scientists and officers are in. YES, HE IS A PLAYABLE CHARACTER SO FAWK YEAH, you can fight as both human and tyrant. But that doesn't mean it'll be easy ramming down enemies. Steve has both pros and cons: basically while he can be a good tank as a tyrant, his size restricts him from entering narrow halls and he can't use his firearm (I mean seriously, his lugers gotta be like pennies in his hands in that state). As human, his stats are just like any but he is quicker on his feet.

And surprise, surprise, we have a half-Spanish head director and not a villain. Introducing one of my old, now revamped characters, Iria McLenlan. I will say this, for the longest time, I have not seen like some scientist character turned a new leaf in most, if not any RE games. Yeah, sure, they're weak but you got to have some idea of how to fight zombies with all that grey matter. Hence why I created Iria, Victor, Katherine and a few others not mentioned yet. Not saying there won't be some villain in white later on. You will also learn more of the history between Iria and Steve and how but I will assure you all it's more of a guardian/foster child one. Hee. Nothing too close.

Also, one thing. I'm sad. I'm sad cuz I had that dog monster design for a while now. Long before RE: Revelations 2 and named it Orthrus. I'm sad cuz now I find out Orthrus' taken for one in that game. :') Ah well, it'll still be called that despite its design different but still, how unexpected.

Lastly, we find out a bit about the main virus: the Kronos Virus. And what this is gonna puke out, well, it's not gonna be a vomit of rainbows and unicorns, that's for sure. This virus, I have been working on its concept for some time, even researching about different viruses (I was surprised to read up on retroviruses that I decided to choose that, as well as base it on a Greek god, Kronos). I'll be adding more details about what this virus is and the other old virus, the Protogonos Virus, in my other side fanfic, CODE: Kronos Documents, as well as how it came about so you can know more bout it.

So hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I really am sorry I took longer than expected. Also, thank you to those again who have faved and reviewed to this story. :D Means a lot that you guys like it so far! Please read and review and I'll try to get the next chapter up real soon!


	6. Chapter Five: Ruin and Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Ruin and Reunion<strong>

* * *

><p><em>NO! <em>

She fought against it. Clawing her arms to grasp on something. Anything to pull herself up.

But all she was grabbing was nothing. Her body was sinking deeper and deeper into the cold blue void.

_No! No! No!_

Was she stuck? Iria veered down to find what was dragging her. The broken piece of metal was indeed right behind her, a part of it yanking at her clothing.

Her gun holster? Her coat? She desperately searched for the tangle, yanking harder and harder but in vain.

Her lungs were screaming for air and her head pounded from the ocean's pressure.

In other words, she was going to die.

Drown in the sea. Truthfully, it sounded a lot better than dying to the virus.

But to die now...the thought terrifyingly made Iria struggle even more as the iciness was sucking her energy out of her muscles.

No, she couldn't die right there, right now.

She had too many things to resolve. Too much at stake.

So much to do. So many broken promises to repair and keep.

She still hadn't assured that those kids were off the island, away from the unleashed nightmare...

"_You really should cease your naivety." _The memory of that shmuck, cruel smile on Wesker's face flashed in her mind. _"You can't save everyone."_

She hadn't even given him a bullet with his name on it yet...

The scientist had always been teased that she had half the luck of an Irish. It was a running gag among her closest colleagues before the outbreak and one she didn't hold too much of a grudge.

Sadly, it seemed to have run out.

All of her sins have eventually outweighed it.

_I'm sorry..._

The freezing cold urged her to give up, which she obliged.

This was her punishment. The eleven years of her mistakes had finally caught up to her.

_I'm so sorry..._

With her fighting spirit ceasing its revolt, she let herself descend deeper into the abyss.

Into regret...

Then something gripped her feeble hand.

Her body was pulled up, the very hand grasping tightly for dear life on whatever it was. At the near brink of losing consciousness from lack of oxygen, Iria glanced up at her rescuer, who glared back at her with furious blue eyes.

Claire had quickly untangled her off the wreckage.

Sluggishly and without eardrums being ripped by pressure, but just steadily enough without losing air, the two women burst out of the surface.

Iria clutched onto the edge of the pool, gasping profoundly and coughing out the saltwater. The TerraSave member pulled herself out first and with everything she had, hauled the scientist up by her lab coat.

"You are _**not**_ getting off that easily!" the woman hissed at the blonde.

Another pull and the scientist was on solid concrete.

"I don't know the whole story yet," Claire began, rising up. "But after this, you're going to tell me everything."

Iria stared at the brunette in bafflement but gradually that changed to a scowl – that statement was an insult to her, readily painting her a coward. _**If**_ they were to survive the current ordeal, of course.

"I won't take a _**no**__._" Claire turned back to the fight on ground level, watching the green monster battle against the hound. Uncanny, she admitted to herself. Seeing Steve go head on against the monster dog while her mind tried to wrap how she could dive in to help him. She would not lose him again. "Now get out of here before you get hurt."

Behind her back, she heard the scientist shuffle onto her feet. Strangely, her footsteps were getting closer rather than further.

"Like I'll run away with my tail between my legs after all this hell."

Not what Claire expected, seeing the woman in white stand forth. Not a cowardly person who valued her intelligence far more important than lives. The hazel eyes glowered out determination that spoke in volume.

As if this woman had looked into the abyss and crawled out of it many times. Something too familiar for Claire herself.

"There are many things I know, Miss. And one of them is how to _**disorientate**_ these things," Iria snapped, her hand slipping down to the back of her belted pouch.

She pulled out what looked like a test-tube. Clear liquid. She readied her arm far back.

"Kiddo!"

The cry poked at Steve's attention. On the spot, he was greatly relieved to see both women alive. Until he noticed the tube in Iria's hand.

He sidestepped a bit.

_CRACK!_

The glass shattered onto the huge two-headed dog and clear liquid exploded, dripping down the wrinkles of its hide. For a faction of a section, the two heads glanced curiously. Sniffing. Its legs then wobbled unsteadily.

"NOW SUCKERPUNCH HIM!" Iria yelled.

All four eyes barely registered the swinging green clenched fist. The sound of bone breaking ruptured in one of its jaws as the left head slammed into the right like a Newton's cradle. The monster dog crumpled, its whole body skidding across the floor.

"What-"

"Odorous liquid. Now help him any way you can!"

"Wait! I can't-"

"This is _not_ my first time in an outbreak," Iria barked, drawing out a black handgun. "Now go!"

_BANG! BANG!_

There were too many surprises Claire was experiencing in just one day – one of them being the scientist dead aiming at the right head of the giant mutt, each bullet pulverizing into the softer half.

"Claire!" Slipping down the ladder, Leon leapt to the lower floor and immediately fished out his gun.

"Shoot the dog! Not Steve!" Claire quickly hollered.

Leon cast out his widened eyes under furrowed eyebrows but he couldn't criticize. Two BOWs were a problem but having one titan against another on a field beyond their level was better than nothing.

If he had to pick, the giant dog had to go. Quickly. For every howl it rung, more Shades were flocking to its calling. Most of them wore the orange jumpsuit of prisoners. A damn siren, the dog was becoming and adding more problems onto their plate.

He shot two down at the head.

Two battles within the hydrodam area – one on the catwalk and one at the bottom. A few Shades tumbled off from the top, only to add more trouble below while the howling drew more and more enemies from every entrance and exit of the ground floor. Many of the survivors had to switch to their held melee weapons in order to conserve their ammo.

_CRACK!_

Every time a small mod was approaching, Iria pitched more of the test tubes away from the team. The half-dead quickly drew to the clear splatters like flies to honey.

Only to be riddled by ammunition.

A sound touched at Claire's ears as she saw to her happiness, a HCF corpse from above and in his possession, two grenades. Hurriedly, she yanked them off the dead guy and tossed one without its pin at one of the sweet-scented spots of gathered half-deads.

They were disintegrated by the blast in seconds.

"GAAAAROOO!"

The green tyrant managed to grip one of the heads, his claws between a pair of jaws. With Steve's inhuman strength, he stretched the jawbones far apart, easily snapping them like a twig.

_CRACK!_

"GAAAAAAAAAAROOO!" A more horrific wail fled out of the other head at the agony of its twin's lockjaw. Legs buckled underneath it as it struggled against the pain and the drowsiness – completely distracted for its other good head to be in a deadlock.

"GRAH!" Using his own body like a top, Steve swung the mutt away, the hairless mass slamming into the side of machine and dropping to the concrete floor.

The amount of brute force and flying bullets had to have killed it.

He mentally cursed to himself as the mutt arose back on all four weak legs. In the back of his head, the monster side acting – what he considered partly a Jekyll and Hyde version of a voice of reasoning – grunted at him to stand his ground. Like he had any other choice. This mindless animal would easily bite off his head!

Then all of a sudden, the mutt choked forward. The two heads arched down as if trying to cough out a trapped hairball from either esophagus but struck far deeper at the internal fork.

Horrid liquid slicked out from a creeping wound in-between the heads, the thick reeking smell of death riding into his hypersensitive nose. _Oh fuck. Now what?_

Instead of coming out from either mouth, a large mass of heat and flesh vomited out from the stretching gap, held from the inside by a revolting excuse of an umbilical cord. The coffin of webbed meat, guts and pus laid before the exhausted and collapsed mutt like a horrific metaphor of vomit projectile-induced birth. He could have sworn, with his hearing and sight, that he heard and even _saw_ a heartbeat quivering from within the cocoon walls.

"Eew." He couldn't help but whine, stepping back. That was just nasty.

The monster part of his mind faintly howled him to kill it. Stomp it. Rip it to pieces. The enemy had exposed its 'heart' out in defeat. Rid of it and the brute he put far back in his head would be the triumphant one. Steve agreed to some extent – more out of protecting the trio with him. However, he waited instead, cringing more at the stench and the ghastly, pulsating casket of pulp.

Control. He had to be in control.

"Please tell me that's its weak spot!" Claire hollered, noting the meat coffin over the sea of Shades they were dealing with. Leon fixed his handgun at it, ready to pull.

"Might as well find out," he uttered.

_BANG! BANG!_

The coffin tremored at each shot and the mutt stooped up in agony.

"GAAAAROOO!"

A couple of shots more and it would end the fight, Leon told himself.

Out of the team, only Iria looked harder at the slopped mass of flesh with frightened puzzlement. It was then her face molted into horror. Hazel eyes wide. Mouth gapped open.

She honestly wished she was just blind.

"Odell?"

There was a face she recognized. Within the disgusting human-sized cocoon, a face peered out of the organic end. It was a face of a human. In his forties. Panting tiredly.

The name shocked the green monster too.

"Odell!" Iria cried out at the familiar human.

The cry alerted the security officer from above that he darted to the side. He too, stared down with bugged out eyes.

"Chief!"

Leon lightened his finger off the trigger in horrid awe. Sure enough, he spotted the dying human face through the fleshy webs. This kind of scene immediately reminded him of the twisted face of another being eaten up by a parasitic virus from '98 and at once, he held back down his finger on the trigger. As sad as it was that this was a well-known personnel to Iria and Kent, he knew what the outcome was, nevertheless if the host was still in his right mind or now.

"Stop! Don't shoot him!" Iria pleaded, waving her arms to Claire and Leon to lower their guns. The two stared at her wordlessly, their weapons still steadied until they had no choice but to aim at more wandering Shades.

She wheeled back to the flesh breathing coffin quickly.

"Odell!" Without thinking, the scientist ran.

Leon darted forward, only to be halted by a Darkened. That woman was putting herself in danger! "Stop!"

"Doc! No!"

Iria was grabbed by the arm, stopped instantly by the green monster that it nearly took her off her feet. She didn't care.

"Let go! We got to save him!" she yelled. "Odell!"

Easily and carefully, Steve wrapped both arms around the panicking scientist. She flayed about to weasel out. But she couldn't. The kiddo already had the upper hand for her sake.

"Steve! Let me go! Odell!"

The constant yelling over the Shades' growling and stampeding seemed to raise the sleepyhead inside the cocoon. The man, barely a chief anymore, noticed them.

"M-McLenlan..."

It was a gurgling and feeble sound. Iria stopped her brawling and stared aghast at the man.

_He's still alive!_ Iria hollered from inside. There was still a chance.

That chance died inside of her when Odell spoke out.

"Kill me."

It was a beseech Iria didn't want to hear, coldly running inside her chest.

"You have to kill me... I-I can't control... The noise..." The man in the meat coffin hunched down his head, trying helplessly to cover his ears but with both hands inside the cocoon, he could only groan agonizingly. "The noise..."

"Odell..." The blonde's face soured with bleakness. She quivered in Steve's arms – it was a request she couldn't do to another co-worker. To anybody.

And yet the logical side of her brain was already telling her there were no other options. She would only be prolonging his pain and even the team's danger if she let him live.

"P-Please...kill me...before I lose it again."

Shuddering behind the meat coffin. The giant two-headed dog slowly climbed back up, sipping the biological cord back into itself like a spaghetti.

"No! Odell!"

There was nothing anyone could do but watch the cocoon be devoured back into the split of the canine beast like a hyena chunking in a whole heart.

"GAAAARRROOO!" it roared.

"Odell!"

"Doc!" The green tyrant called out, striding back from the awakened dog with the scientist still trying to break out from his arms.

"Let me go! Odell!"

"Doc! Stop!" Steve wailed, forcing her to see eye to eye. "You know as well as I do. It's too late!"

It snapped her out but the distressed face from the scientist didn't make it any better. He was the clear reminder – takes one to know one. To have been unwillingly turned into an infected Guinea pig once and lose his mind to the thirst for blood. To the monster part of his wrapped persona.

Steve wished for another way for the suffering chief of security. Just as he had been wishing that he wasn't the way he was right now.

"Steve! Look out!"

The internal conflict was a split second, Steve returning back to more dire problems thanks to Claire's cry. However, the two-headed creature was already heading towards them with flashing teeth.

He shoved Iria back away and took the chomp on his shoulder.

"Steve!" Claire aimed her gun but didn't pull in fear of hitting the green monster.

"Hostia!" Iria cursed at her negligence, rushing back up to help the big guy with another pitch of a test-tube far to the right. His back was open for another pack of Shades, ready to leap onto him while his attention was all on trying to unclench the jaws off him.

One didn't waver to the alluring smell. Iria leapt onto the Shade with a drawn out taser in hand.

She stabbed hard into the back of its neck, frying it up from the inside.

"GAAAARRROOO!" Fire raged out as the mutt pulled out, gums burned off by the red and surprisingly combustible blood of his prey.

An opening! Steve seized the dog by one neck and flung it across the floor, into another horde of three Shades – their small bodies crushed under the weight of his opponent.

A fizzing sound echoed from above. The short burst of impulsive fire tickled at the sprinklers above. Great, a drizzle in the middle of a zombie boss fight.

Steve peered at the bite wound. It stung badly by the dribbles, the small embers from inside his own flesh closing the holes up like one would stab a heated rod onto a severe bleeding wound. As much as he has hated his new body since the first time, the only benefit he ironically appreciated was his blood's defensive and healing properties.

The mutt slowly got back up and the three shooters took to filling it with more bullets into its hideous hide. Now wasn't the time to stop, Steve told himself.

_Ka-Chak!_

_BAM!_

Pellets flew into a charging Shade on the catwalk, its body flopping over the edge. Another swarmed towards Kent, still trying to reload his next shells. He clicked close his empty weapon and instead, greatly swung the hilt into the Shade.

"Duck!"

His eyes widened at the sight of a spray can behind him and he immediately dropped down. A dragon's breath erupted above him, swimming out of the gas stemmed through Rebecca's held out lighter, and engulfed two walkers. They wailed terribly as their flesh burned off, igniting a reaction inside them to convert into Darkeneds.

"Bloody-!" He had to admit, that was bold of her. "You are ballistic!"

"Get up!" The small woman quickly hauled the Aussie onto his feet and fired her gun again at the blackened beings, giving him time to reload.

_Click! Click! Click!_

Her hand quickly and frightfully searched for a new cartridge in her pouch but on such a narrow platform with both ends covered, Rebecca felt a little suffocated. Scared. Like the train ride back in Raccoon City.

She almost froze as one, still unfazed by all of her bullets into its chest, picked up the speed with stretched out claws.

The shotgun barrel quickly slipped up to the Darkened's blazing red mouth.

_BAM!_

Its head, skull and all fractured apart into flying pieces.

Kent turned to the second Darkened.

_BAM!_

"Keep at it!" he uttered out, quickly chucking in his next two shells. "Faster we clear these bastards, the faster we help them below!"

Rebecca brushed away her packet of fear and clicked in the cartridge.

"Whoa!"

She wheeled around in the confined space, seeing the prisoner pushed back to the edge with his crowbar shoving against another walker on him. She joined in to help, grabbing the Shade by the collar and both easily towed it over the railing.

It wasn't the only thing that fell. The scuffling of legs on the catwalk knocked off yet another of the fallen HCF corpses overboard.

One grenade skidded across the floor from its vest.

_THUD!_

Another clawed fist at one of the dog's eye. Yes, that was a shark thing Steve had heard from outside but still, anything was better. The hound just wouldn't go down. By hits, by slugs, by everything they got.

One head launched at him. In demi-seconds, his monster side took over his reflexes and claws fastened onto the chops. Another good and hated benefit of being a giant tyrant. Now, he couldn't complain, pushing the clacking canines from nibbling into his face.

Again, Steve threw the giant dog as simple as a wrestler with one in a headlock in a match. He watched the four-legged body this time smash into the side of the turbines. He had thrown the hound a fair good distance too.

_Please let that be it!_

His prayer must have been answered by some higher power who at last took pity on him. Because again, the mutt puked out the meat coffin onto the hydrodam's deck.

Steve made his wordless apology but ending the chief's woe now was better than continuing to watch it go on.

This would make it the third time-

"ARGH!"

A surprise attack from behind – it was hard to look back with his body like so but at the corners of his eyes, he could make out two Shades over his spurred hunchback.

He hissed at the stabbing of what looked like a handmade shiv and tried to pull the half-dead prisoner off him. His distorted muscular arm chucked it far, the vertebrates of the Shade crippling on contact of concrete.

"Claire!"

For some reason, he no longer felt the other Shade on his back. Only realizing that the agent had yelled out Claire's name, Steve searched about with terror.

To his shock and relief, Claire had jumped up and riveted the Shade in a headlock off of him. Both plummeted to the ground.

Claire held down the half-dead and thrust her combat knife right into the walker's head. Quick and deadly.

He kept his thanks in, still frightened to speak to her in his new form. Awkwardly, he watched her heavily gasp from her attack and stand up, looking back at him. But god, she was still the same hard-core Valkyrie he remembered from the past.

"Incoming!"

Now wasn't the time to say hi or quickly hide in a closet all because he was a freak. Claire and Steve glimpsed up at Leon's warning and held back their ground again.

More Shades. Just were where they coming from and why! ? Actually, no. The answer to where was the prison cells from another floor. Why was the unanswered question.

In the commotion, everyone took the swarming as higher urgency over the downed mutt with the exposed meat box.

The human in the cocoon, by the name of Chief Ian Odell, opened his weary eyes to the sound of fire and screams. No more darkness and sleeping under organs of the two-headed BOW. His vision was fuzzy for a moment but within reaching distance, he spotted the lone grenade.

The once chief-of-security couldn't feel his legs anymore. Or his lower torso. His consciousness kept on splitting in two, bit by bit draining down the cocoon, through the umbilical cord and into the beast of himself.

It didn't help with the accursed singing. Beckoning him to obey.

It was hopeless.

He was beyond saving. Except for one way out.

It was a better choice than losing the rest of his mind.

Odell screamed out his remaining portion of his lungs as he fought – pushing his arm out through the slimy dissolving layers of pus and meat. Or at least what was left of his arm. Bones of his fingers, barely held together by melted muscles, pierced through his meat coffin.

That tired him out.

Then he felt his body drag away from the grenade.

_No!_ His damn monstrous self was going to swallow himself back inside.

He shuffled desperately forward, ignoring the liquid of his lower half seeping out.

His fingers gratefully clutched onto the grenade.

"Odell!"

He was coarsely fatigued, the pain riding throughout him in places he never knew existed till now. But he weakly squinted up with the rest of his strength.

"I-Iria."

It was the first time he called out to her on first name basis.

There was no way he could live. No chance he could probably be as lucky as the green specimen.

He was a goner for good. What was frightening was that he was leaving his family behind. Unable to do the same thing Iria was surely doing for hers: get them off the island.

"P-Please..." Odell miserably requested. "Save them."

It didn't matter to him that the scientist, always annoying and sometimes a bit stubborn in the past, was giving that pitiful look to him. Sometimes, you just couldn't save everyone. He knew that just as well as Iria did from their past on this miserable piece that didn't deserve the local name, the fortunate islands. A cruel joke indeed.

"S-Save our families..."

All he cared right now was that Iria would ensure his family's safety in his absence. Despite their differences, Odell knew deep down Iria would keep that promise.

Then he was pulled away.

"Odell!" she screamed. Madly, she dashed.

"Doc!"

The hellish dog grunted out a loud slurping noise as the meat coffin slithered back into the split. It shook back up with regained vigor, the sleeping liquid now wearing off.

"GAAAAROOO!"

"Odell!" Iria cried again.

She wanted to stop the chief. Yes, her mind was telling her it was pointless. She was a woman of logic and all she was doing was denying the truth. The virus had claimed him and that was that. But she was too hopeful again.

She hadn't learned her lesson about how fragile lives were.

She knew. Odell was as important as everybody indoors. Outside, his wife, daughter and son were waiting. They were waiting for him to come back to them. Alive. Human. Breathing.

_BOOM!_

The explosion of a tiny grenade flowered out from the beast's gap, shuddering Iria down into a fetus position on the floor. The two heads were further apart from each other, their inner sides torn by shrapnel and heat. The burning whiff of meat overcame the salty smell inside.

Like a tree chopped at the sides, the ripped-open hound timbered down with a loud clunk. This time, it didn't get up.

Few seconds passed and the last few Shades were taken out. But still the dog stayed motionless. At last, the sprinklers ceased the indoor raining.

Iria, loosening her head up from her sheltered arms, stared fixed on the corpse. Anger gradually wrote onto her face.

"You bastard!" she screamed, climbing back up. "You moron! What about you? What about your family! ? Killing yourself won't solve anything! You...you damn old geezer..."

Screaming at the deceased chief was pointless. Venting out at his choice for leaving behind his family wouldn't go into his ears.

She was reminded. Kent had told her there would be death. There would be consequences and many would pay the price. That was the miserable truth.

"You were still needed..."

She fell, bent down onto her knees. Another loss added to the long list of those who had died by the sudden outbreak and those who died years ago. Another life slipped through her fingers so easily. Above her, Kent shared her angst with a hard fist on the railing.

Although they had all survived the atrocious animal attack, the victory was bittersweet. Killing off a zombified nobody in Rockfort was one thing. Killing off a person one knew, no matter how little or great, was another.

It was both. The amount of luger ammo Steve had fired easily at the zombies back on Rockfort was plenty but he never knew the names before the T-Veronica virus hit the old prison. The gunshot at one familiar face was the hardest he had to endure.

The beheaded body of a scientist still flashed fresh in his mind, sending shivers down his spine that he gazed at his claws. That one too was the hardest.

The many things he had seen others endure within the white walls of the facility were much different from his time in Rockfort prison, some that nearly broke minds far higher than his average thinking. But the one thing he had learned from the past and even till now on Cape Inacio, survival was necessary.

_"There is no such thing as heroes or villains. Only survivors."_

That phrase from the Texan still buried deep in his brain.

_Click!_

His red eyes streamed to the right at the sensitive sound.

He knew that sound. Many times, he had heard it before. Hell, he even held one that made that sound before in another sort of nightmarish prison.

The other part of his brain, the more vicious one, demanded him to bat the threat away. He resisted, more out of curiosity. More out of fear.

Steve glanced down to the barrel of Leon's gun.

"Leon!" Claire jumped forth.

_Click!_

Another gun drawn. _Oh come on_, he groaned from the inside. Couldn't he just get a break?

But this time, it wasn't another lackey.

Iria was back on her feet, handgun pointed. Dead set at Leon.

"Whoa! Put that down!" Vince took aim, having dropped down to the ground floor with the rest of the survivors.

_Ka-cak!_

Goosebumps stood on the scruff of the agent's neck, feeling the heated nozzle of the shotgun.

"You drop yours, wanker."

"D-Doc," the green monster whined nervously. He didn't dare to move an inch, no matter how much his guts was telling him to drag the scientist to safety.

Dammit. Dammit all.

Why, of time and places, did this all have to happen?

What didn't make it any better weren't the eyes of three new faces staring at his disgusting, extemporaneous form.

But those blue eyes staring at him terribly.

He wanted to dig into a much deeper hole away from Claire. He was happy. At long last, he was able to meet her after years.

But not like this. This was the last thing Steve wanted her to see.

He didn't want her memory of their reunion of him being a monster. Claire should be remembering what he had been, not what he was now.

"Don't move!" Vince ordered at the slight cowering from the tyrant. Steve froze.

"Stop it!" Claire begged. "Don't hurt him!"

"Are you kidding me? That's not a human!"

The blonde's expression remained stiff, unmoved. And that pecked at Vince's confusion.

"Back off. Now," she ordered firmly.

"You're protecting _**that thing**_?" Vince hollered.

"This _thing_ has a name." Iria's voice broke the tension, surprising the newcomers even more. "His name is Steve Burnside."

"I don't care what its name is, that thing is a freak!"

"Vince," Leon ordered, hinting not to make the other party anymore aggravated. But his partner ignored.

"If you want to gun down monsters," Iria started, calmly strolling until she was right in between the older agent and the tyrant, her firearm still pointed dead at Leon's. "Then shoot me."

Leon flinched with surprise. That was bold.

"D-Doc..."

The scientist ignored, staying put. "I'm the head director of this facility. This virus is because of me."

"Oi, McLenlan," Kent called at angrily.

"The Kronos Project falls under my responsibility, including this disaster happening around us," Iria explained steadfastly. "That makes me a better threat. Wouldn't you agree?"

"...Why are you protecting him?" Leon asked curiously.

This was all new to him. A woman protecting a guy who was once dead, now alive and very much not human. So he wanted to understand.

"Isn't it obvious? Because he's your lab rat!" Vince hissed.

A grumble softly and irritatedly escaped from Steve's gritted teeth. That was a low insult to him, despite the phrase holding true-

"He's family."

The grumble croaked away. Steve looked at the back of the scientist with a mild astonished look, partly grateful.

"He is a friend to a lot of people here. He is just like every one of us on this island," Iria explained calmly. "He is human."

"Have you lost your marbles?" Vince muttered insultingly.

Iria didn't budge, her glare stern and firm at Leon. "You only see him as a risk because of what he looks like. But you have not spent the amount of time as I have with him. You don't know him."

"And you do?" Leon asked.

Her eyes mellowed. "I owe a lot to him."

"Owe? That's a fucking monster."

Iria kept her composure, regardless of Vince's probing to 'common sense'. "...There are many definitions on the term, 'monster'. I think the one about calling a person a monster because you choose to harm another fits better than appearances. This kiddo doesn't fit that bill. Frankly, it's more suited to us staff for making this virus," Iria admitted wearily. Then her eyes furrowed. Like a mother bear ready to attack. "So like hell, I'm going to let you kill him while I'm still standing!"

The sentences caught Claire by surprise. She couldn't see the significant reason between them, whether if related by blood or not.

But to call Steve family... A total stranger...

"This woman's crazy," Vince grunted.

"You should take that back," Kent warned, nearing the shotgun closer. "You haven't spent time with this kid well enough to know him like we do."

"You're joking. You're into this shi-"

"Wanker, while I am grateful for you all bloody coming to our rescue, I ain't going to just let some hoon shoot him. We wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him. Do you know how many close calls we've had? Too many to count. And at any time, the _thing_ you call him could have abandoned us..." Kent enlightened, ignoring Vince's shocked expression jumping about from person to person as the agent was noiselessly begging someone to have the same thought as he had – that this was crazy talk. No one did. "Like Iria says, he's more human than those walkers we're dealing with."

Another person to vouch for Steve. It was puzzling, astonishing to Claire. But deep down, she admitted to herself – that was good.

How long he had been on this island, when did this guardianship start; those questions she knew she would get her answers. But for now, all she knew that during his time on the island, –

–he was never alone.

"No matter what, I will not move from this spot," Iria continued. "I won't let you hurt him. So you might as well go ahead and shoot me now."

The guns locked firm in the air. As calm as Leon was, the woman in front of him remained with the same strong composure as his. She wouldn't budge at gunpoint.

"Hey," Leon broke the silence, calling out to Steve. That got his attention but the monster cautiously hunched back with uncertainty. "That person at the elevator." The red eyes widened. "You were there."

Now it was Iria's turn to be surprised. "What? How did you-"

"Why did you kill him?

"Wait just a-"

"Harrisss..." Before Iria could speak on his behalf, Steve spoke. The voice out of him was croaked, hoarser but there was some trace of his original tone. He glanced down to the floor with a saddened expression. "He... He was already infected..."

At the mention of the Texan scientist's name, Iria tightened with the clear intention of biting the inside of her mouth. And it was a quick glare back for Leon but he noted Kent's shotgun lowered slightly and the Aussie's wrinkled expression, cursing out "Damn that bastard..."

So they both knew that person too, Leon thought.

Yeah, now that he thought more, that person strangely lunged forth instead of trembling in a corner.

"That was out of mercy?"

Nothing but squished eyes and closed claws. Then a slow painful nod.

Human.

How funny. No one from the bureau would believe him that he just met a specimen with a conscious. Or even two people crazy enough to protect him.

At last, Leon withdrew and heaved a sigh. "Vince, back down."

"What? But-!"

"Back down."

A warning tone. Vince searched about for someone to agree with him that this was insane. No one stepped forward. Losing the fight, he reluctantly reclined back but not even shooting a scowl at the monster. Or perhaps the scientist. Maybe both. Steve wasn't too sure.

Well, that was one person he had to stay away from.

A sigh heavily escaped as the scientist relaxed. The captain withdrew the shotgun, but still kept it at a level for any double crosses, his eyes hawked on the New Yorker.

"Thank you," Iria said and then wheeled back. There was a wait. "Well? Aren't you going to say thanks?"

An eyebrow rose. "You're kidding, right?"

Iria folded her arms with a disgruntled look. "Really? You were about to be gun down and that's all you have to say?"

"I don't know. How is anyone supposed to say afterrr having a gun pointed at them?"

A chuckle out of the Aussie's closed mouth while the blonde rolled her eyes. The prisoner was more gleeful to have the chaos die away but then again, he was still new to the whole monster thing, Steve thought, to be frank.

Still, Steve also heaved a sigh, too soft for anyone to take notice as they turned away from him with matters to talk – Kent and Iria asking Leon why he and his group of newcomers had just wandered down to the hydrodam area. He overheard the names, Victor and Katherine and just like Iria's relieved smile at the mention of those names, he too was pleased.

At least now, he could relax. A tiny bit, despite sticking out like a sore thumb, painted green with red Christmas lights. There were some stares from the others but they were brief. However, there were two problems that didn't help calm him down. One, being the happy-go-trigger with that New York accent. He'd have to be very careful around him because for sure, if he was left alone with that stranger, he would be shot dead for good.

And two, Claire.

Steve had only realized it, his red eyes detecting those blue ones on him. He could feel shame smother him slowly from the inside.

He was scared.

He shouldn't be in the same place as Claire was.

He had died and come back to life. He was still a monster. A freak of nature that could spontaneously sprout out scales and spurs all because of fright. Out of emotion.

There was no way she'd want him like _this_.

He took a heavy step back but shockingly, he noted her reaction – Claire skipping forth just a bit with a hand nearly reaching out but it stopped in midair.

She was afraid. More afraid of him leaving than of his form.

Steve stayed put, his claws absentmindedly fiddling with each other like a frightened child. He glanced back at the brunette, then at the scientist with hesitant eyes.

Iria noticed, paying little attention to the conversation between men. She nodded with a soft smile.

Yeah... How long has it been? Eight years?

Had Claire not stopped looking for him, he asked himself.

Steve sighed deeply and again looked at her, fighting every ounce of awkwardness and fear to break out a contented smile. But not too big to show his teeth.

"H-Heeey...Claire..."

The next thing that happened was sudden - something he didn't expect for the brunette to do. But the warmth inside of him encouraged him not to care.

The tiny arms embraced tightly around him as much as they could stretch.

And finally, he didn't feel terrible anymore...

* * *

><p><strong>Kent Williams<strong>

_White Rook_

**Date of Birth:** 1967

**Age:** 39

**Blood Type:** A

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/Australian

**Occupation:** Security, Captain

**Teammate Class:** Operative

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Combat Knife

Primary – Handgun (Security standard)

Secondary – Assault Rifle

**Stats:**

Strength: ****

Stamina: ****

Accuracy: ****

Wits: **

Speed: ***

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

_***/*/*/***_

**T****imothy Stuart (aka Tim)**

_White Pawn_

**Date of Birth:** 1980

**Age:** 26

**Blood Type:** O

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** African/American

**Occupation:** Prisoner

**Teammate Class:** Field Agent/Medic

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Crowbar

Primary – Handgun

Secondary – Machine Gun, Tranquilizer Rifle

**Stats:**

Strength: ****

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: **

Wits: ***

Speed: ****

Endurance: **

**Ability:**

* * *

><p><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**Orthrus**

**Based:** Beast/Human

**Date of creation:** 2006

**Purpose:** Kronos virus infection

Orthrus is a canine-like BOW and the mutation of chief-of-security, Ian Odell, created by the Kronos virus and the t-virus. Orthrus is the first boss encountered by the current team: Claire Redfield, Leon Kennedy, Steve Burnside and Iria McLenlan.

Orthrus resembles an oversized hairless hound that at first, has only one head. The one head, however, splits down in the middle to form two more functioning heads, being Orthrus' notable feature. Orthrus can brutally lunge forward, knocking down characters and even clamped them down with its jaws for a moment of time unless someone comes in to save that trapped character. In between the heads is where its weak spot is – the cocoon of Ian Odell – and this can only be exposed out after excessive damage. This is the best time to shoot it down as much as possible before it swallows its weak point back in and get up. Orthrus's wail can also attract other wandering Shades within its perimeter so that it does not fight alone.

Its name is derived from a two-headed hound, who is a doublet of Cerberus and involved in one of Heracles' twelve labours. He was in charged with guarding red cattle belonging to a three-bodied giant named Geryon. Heracles eventually slew Orthrus before taking the red cattle to complete his tenth labour.

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Fight Orthrus.

* * *

><p>Vickie: And here people, is the last chapter of the first episode of CODE: Kronos. :D WAIT, NOT THE END OF THE FIC DAMMIT! Sheez! I said the end of the first episode. There's still more to gooooo~!<p>

And boy was this battle tough to write under a few days. I actually wasn't too sure how it'd go after finishing the last chapter but because of the great lovely reviews I've been getting, I was just so eager to get this up. But hopefully I pulled it out... Though Steve the Tyrant got most of the spotlight. :P

And yes, THIS IS MY VERSION OF AN ORTRHUS. Aaaah...still kinda wish it wasn't so ironic that I already chose this name for this boss waaaaay before RE: Revelations 2 picked that name. :')

Also another piece of good news. I have just made a tumblr blog of this fanfic – basically where I'll be posting character concepts, details, backstories, etc. I'll be using that mainly as a visual means while this will be more of the story direction. I'm trying my best to constantly update the blog daily (but with life and other projects on hand, that's a bit tough) so hope you guys will enjoy and follow the extra stuff of the blog: residentevil - codekronos .tumblr (exclude the spaces...sigh)

With that said, happy reading and reviewing and see you all in the next instalment of CODE: Kronos. Cuz the next's one gonna be talking about the events hours before leading up to the hydrodam area. Through the tales of one specimen and a couple of co-workers. :D Also it may take a while for the next chapter but I'll be trying my best to get it up as soon as possible.


	7. Chapter Six: The Start to The End

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: The Start to The End<strong>

* * *

><p><em>To be brave, by definition, one has first to be afraid. ~ Robert Harris<em>

* * *

><p><em>31 May 2006, 11:10 A.M.<em>

_Level B, Theseus Research Facility_

**_Two hours ago…_**

The halls of Level B were unusually more packed than usual. Most of the staff would have been at the lower levels, working. However, for some reason, the atmosphere was a little more cheery. That was laughable. For some, including himself, he couldn't help but feel anxious.

Nothing to be happy about that K-virus being nearly completed. And a lot more things waddling in his mind...

Still he kept a straight face. If the Doc saw him mope again, he'd never hear the end of it.

His hearing, sensitive even to the most annoying dripping from the guys' bathroom on the same floor, picked up familiar voices as he neared the cafeteria. He also greatly smelled the hint of rich pastry. All he was told was to visit there once he got back to the facility. That damn Texan didn't give a reason and just walked off causally last night. Sheez!

He could have sworn he saw someone peep out from the cafeteria's entrance and duck back in, the whispers hushing everyone to be quiet.

_Okkkk, that was weird._

He stepped in.

Darkness. But behind the green-tinted contact lens, his more inhuman eyes could detect the standing forms near the rows of tables and chairs. Breathing. Shining out heat.

Light suddenly flashed. His eyes squinted tenderly as he tried to readjust his vision.

_POP! POP!_

Nerves twitched and his heart leapt into his throat as the confetti rained down on him. If he hadn't had his control in order, he'd probably impulsively explode into his tyrant form because his monster side thought of them as shots. Instead, the redhead simply stood still and prepared for whatever was to come like it was any training routine.

Instead, no BOWs or HCF ordered to fight him. Or the occasionally-surprised martial art drill from Kent.

Just claps and smiles from the only team of scientists that had been babysitting him since his awakening.

Well, that was a stupid thing to say. It wasn't so much of babysitting. Out of the ten people in lab coats, two were pretty much his handlers but they gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted. It was more of...looking out for the mutated kid whenever he got into trouble. Yeah, sounded about right.

"I think we shouldn't have used poppers," Katherine snickered.

"Naaaah. He's just stunned that there's cake for lunch."

He glanced up. In middle of the big eating hall, the familiar faces stood around a table of delicious food. Above was a party banner that read, "Goodbye! We'll Miss You!"

Out of the white-clothed group, one stepped forward with that wide smile and folded arms.

"What?" Iria uttered. "You think we wouldn't throw you a goodbye party?"

Steve couldn't help but crack a smile at the Doc.

Out of the blues, he was grabbed by the shoulders. A gray-haired man, between pudgy and partly muscular – if possible, Terry Davis would have been mistaken as a bear wearing a lab coat – burst out laughing and harshly rustled his hair.

"We got you good this time, kiddo!"

"H-Hey! Cut it out!" Steve quickly weaseled out from the bulky hands that one would expect to easily crush test tubes in his line of work.

"Go easy on him for today, Terry." Another man stood out, one with a short and stout build, and curly brown hair. Samson O'Leary heaved out a sigh. "Can't believe you'll be leaving us."

"It's not really like I want to. And, you sure you should be doing this for me?" He managed to utter.

Giving a farewell party to a specimen – anyone who first heard that would deem the group as mad, despite them holding degrees and PhDs. Heck, it was a little strange to him.

He was no longer a human in actual fact.

Another man, the only one who stood out with a pair of spongy-ended headphones connected to an old Walkman in his pocket, chuckled. "If it bothers you that bad, how about looking at this as a break for us hardworking folks instead?"

"Hardworking? Hmph," Victor scoffed with folded arms. "All you've been doing the whole day is listen to that punk junk."

Zach Torres scorned at the tall toothpick-biting man. "You can never appreciate the finer touch of 80s' music."

"I don't know. Feels kinda, you know, awkward I'm just getting a party."

"What's there to be awkward about?" Yves Loisel, the quietest among the older adults, was already passing around the plates of cakes – one handed over to Steve. "We've heard from Iria you celebrated your birthday with her kids, right? How is this any different?"

Steve chocked out of embarrassment. He would never be let down about that one day. "Well, having one inside a facility that's keeping a virus doesn't actually sound like the best bash location to me."

"Eh, touché." He simply shrugged his shoulders. "What can you do about it? And I don't want us to be wasting this cake. You know how late Christian stayed up last night to make it?"

Steve beamed lightly. "Tell him I said thanks."

"Like always."

"Ah well. I bet you'll be happy to have us out of your hair." With tanned olive skin and overgrown hair that he simply tied it up in a ponytail instead of taking one measly hour to have a haircut, an average built man stood forth.

"Ah, c'mon. Don't say it like that. Of course, I'm going to miss you all," Steve muttered meekly.

Jose Sanchez still held his smile out but raised an eyebrow. "Oh ready? If it was me, I'd be pissed about all the probing, the tests and the treatment down here."

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "I mean it. I'll miss you all."

"Even GAIAN?"

"Ha! I am not going to miss her one bit." Steve then wearily darted his eyes about like a frightened hawk arching its neck around. Saying that sentence just felt like it would bite him in the ass.

This little scare drew out chuckles from the Mexican man. "I guess that's one good point to look forward to."

"Of course! How many warning shots have I gone through? That thing is a fucking creepy socio stalker!"

"Hear that, Iria?" Jose uttered. "I told you that machine has a mind of its own!"

"And you have been saying that non-stop, Jose."

It was then that Steve noticed something amiss within the party.

He counted. There were only nine today.

"Where's Kailey?"

"Doing some last-minute work," the strong Texan accent voiced out from behind them. "Just so you know, Kail wanted to be here."

Approaching them with two full plates in one hand was a man many would never expect to be a scientist, especially with the tone he spoke out. A redneck with blond-gray hair that had stumped many to reconsider their decision to pick on stereotypes. Well, that wouldn't stop Harris Cooper from throwing a punch.

"Don't want her to be left out." Harris then snorted. "Feels like only yesterday you were a nuisance."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Take it however, you want, boy. We'll all going to miss you."

"You guys, yes. Absolutely everyone? Doubtful. Bet they're just glad they won't have to walk these halls with me around."

Harris just shrugged. "Thought you didn't care about them."

"Hmph, if they keep calling me 'Specimen 0267', of course I'd ignore them."

"Blame procedure, kiddo. I've been saying that for the longest time," Iria said. "I'm just glad we managed to make this party without Odell or anyone screaming "you're breaking protocol" nonsense. We want this last moment for you the best, Steve."

Steve gave a quiet, grateful smile and glanced back up to the banner, stretching the smile a little wider.

It was odd too – having a moment he expected to be non-existent. It was his last day on this island. Ironically and probably it'd be his last 'normal' day.

Had he never died in the past, perhaps he would be in a party like this one, but a sad one. Steve had no such goals in the past before his fall, expecting one day to land in a stinky desk job.

Well, there had been one... It was a childhood dream that somehow got revived back some months ago.

"Speakin' of which, a better time now to give you this." The Texan pulled something small out something small from his pocket with his free hand and practically forced it right into Steve's hands without giving him a chance to decline.

A pair of keys. One being the kind to open up a huge warehouse or storage and the other to some vehicle.

"What's this to?"

"The keys to my Skyhawk."

Eyes flashed wide at Harris. Did he hear it right?

"Seriously! ?"

Harris smirked at the enthusiasm on the young man's face. "Yup. Had it since '96. 'Course that plane's still back home in Texas. Hasn't left storage. Rent and maintenance is still being paid even to this day. Should be in good condition, with some tweakin' needed. Probably a good clean and oil change. Reckon it'd be of better use for you than for letting it rot there."

"I'm surprised you bought a plane, Harris," Jose droned. "Have you even flown it?"

"Twice when me and my folks returned back home. Before HELIX pulled that whole island containment rule though. But to this day, flyin' that plane is a beaut."

"Did you have some sort of midlife crisis or something? Geez."

He couldn't believe his ears, his eyes still fixated on the keys like precious silver. Steve Burnside, at the age of twenty-five – mentally twenty-three by Iria's calculations but he didn't care – was getting an aircraft of his own.

Then he frowned disappointedly.

Harris furrowed one eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm grateful for the gift. I really am. I can't believe you'd even give me this, Harris. Just...don't take it the wrong way but..." Steve frowned, unimpressed. "This model sucks."

Iria sighed softly._ Oh boy, here we go again._

Harris glowered. "Excuse me, boy. You must have cotton stuffed in your ears. This is a _**Cessna 172 Skyhawk**_."

"A Cessna 172R. A 172S is a far better choice than an antique."

"172-! ? That toy ain't even much different other than that new leather smell and its racket of an engine!"

"How would you know? You haven't left the island to even try that model! And for your information, 172S has a better performance than that tin can!"

At this point, Iria closed off her mind. She could never understand this kind of talk. She wasn't much of a car, or in this case, a plane person to begin with. With the two droning on about what was good and what wasn't, Iria couldn't help but lose the conversation easily. To this day, she could never really comprehend their constant arguing whenever the topic was about aircrafts.

Also, weren't they fighting over two planes that were one letter apart?

"Alright, fine." Harris drew out his open palm as he grunted. "If you ain't gonna appreciate my gift, then give it back."

"No." Steve held back the keys. Like hell was he ditching away a plane, even if that was the one of the worst models in his book ever. "You gave it to me. It's mine now."

And that literally took the cake. Jose burst out laughing, hunching down at the immaturity between two grown men. Iria just shook her head. Kailey had always muttered that it had to be a guy thing.

"Fine. Keep the damn keys. Do what you like with Bolt." With that, Harris skidded off on the balls of his feet angrily. "Ungrateful, little-"

"Hey, Harris!"

The Texan turned, still with a scorned look.

"Thanks for the gift!"

Harris shook his head but this time with a plaguing smirk. He waved out his hand, a sign of goodbye and no hard feelings taken, before he walked out of the cafeteria.

Slowly, the group dispersed a little apart – some taking to conversations of their own. Only Iria and Steve paired together at a table, eating their cake.

Well, Iria did. He hadn't touched his yet, despite how tempting the richness was.

The normality was still somewhat strange to him.

He knew full well he was a specimen. A monster. A freak.

And yet, in just two years, he walked around – a monster in human skin... The sound of that had never made him feel good about himself.

"If you're still feeling uncomfortable, just take Zach's word over it. It's been a long time since we've had a party like this."

Steve chuckled. "I'm just shocked you know how to have a good time."

Iria grumbled, but not out of distaste. "Hey, I'll have you know I can make a mean tapas party than those loud 'hip-hop' club dances. Don't paint me as one of those old folks who play bingo every Saturday."

He snickered. Though, frankly, he was a little curious about what a 'tapas' party was like, especially under Iria's supervision. The mixed cultures Iria always expressed keenly were one of the things he was going to miss.

The laugh died softly in him, as reality brought him back down.

Yeah... He was leaving.

"Come now. Lighten up. You'll be getting of this god-forsaken island for good."

Slowly, his stiff smile broke further apart.

One side, it _was_ a god-forsaken island. The hostility still hid in the air not just for him but for everyone and in plain sight. Worst part was only a handful saw the truth – the rest was oblivious about that fact and that was for their sake.

They were all prisoners. Just like he had been back in Rockfort island and was now on Cape Inacio.

And then there was the other side.

The happy townsfolk living in bliss. Outside the walls, he saw it all in every color and emotion for more than a year. The community was tight, happy, and interracial. And it was better that way.

Steve couldn't imagine what would happen if they'd found out they were being held as hostages over the staff of the research facility. Probably panic but he was more frightened of the aftermath.

After all, there were the watchful eyes of Wesker and his dogs...

"You said your goodbyes with everyone?"

He snapped out of his cluster of thoughts, turning to Iria. Ah, nuts. She was concerned. But he couldn't hide it.

He nodded.

"How did Randy and Hannah take to the news?"

Steve deeply sighed. Oh, were those two different stories. He had never felt so miserable...

"I think I felt my heart get crushed when I told Randy. You should have seen his face, Doc. He tried to hide it, saying he was happy that I got 'promoted'." Steve emphasized the word with a twitch of two fingers in each hand, one still clutching his plate. "...He was so looking forward for us to play that new fighting game..."

Iria softly smiled. She understood, having her shares of seeing that saddened face just forgiving his aunt for missing many important days. That all the more just dug deeper into her guilt.

"And Hannah?"

Steve groaned. Loud. And hunched down. "She did not take it well." He instantly rose up. "I thought she was going to punch me too!"

"Punch you? I doubt it. If it was me, she'd just slam the door on my face."

"Not helping, Doc... I didn't get to say goodbye to her properly. She just left without a word." Another groan. "I don't feel right just leaving like this..."

"Don't worry too much. They won't hold a grudge against you. You know those two just as much as I do."

"Maybe... I don't know. Hannah's already pissed at me." He stared at her with uncertainty.

The one thing Iria was grateful the most for the kiddo was the fact he became close to her family in her place outside the walls. It has been a more year since she had ever stepped out of the facility.

Sure, she kept tags. Her colleagues and of course, Kiddo, did all they could do for her niece and nephew in her absence. She was their guardian, for Pete's sake. If child service was on this island, they would have taken the kids away. Frankly, she admitted to herself that would have been better - not out of spite but for their own safety from this rotten place.

It wasn't that she was cruel. She wasn't. They were her sister's children and she loved them so much.

Just...circumstances in the past made it difficult that she was forced to stay inside the facility, whether she liked it or not. And it didn't matter the rare cabin fever moments too.

But from the stories she listened eagerly from Steve, the one year, two months and three weeks the three kids have spent together were absolutely eventful.

"How about this? I'll go talk to her."

As quick as lighting, she was given a face that asked "Are you sure you want to do that?" Iria shrugged, knowing full well she'd be defeated.

"Ok, so I'm not in the best position but she is my niece. I'll talk to her."

Steve relaxed. Just a bit. But that still didn't wash away the regret. He was particularly like family to the kids so telling them he was leaving still felt more like a cut in their ties.

Truly, he wished he wasn't being transferred to some unknown location in Africa...

"...You know, I can always just not go. Tell Wesker to screw off. Could always act like a delinquent freak that they'll have to keep me here."

The scientist shook her head. She disapproved. "We've talked about it, Kiddo. You got this chance and there's no way you're giving it up because of us. You'll be free. And you'll be able to meet this Claire too."

Claire.

The name rang softly in his head as he stared at the tiled floor beneath him.

Strange. It was brief but Iria noted it. He did nothing but it was the 'nothingness' the perked her attention. This was his sweetheart. The mere mentioning of her name used to send the young lad into an adorable fit of awkwardness.

Of course, if she had said "sweetheart" out loud, the kiddo would surely glare at her, flushed in the cheeks, yelling, "Come on, Doc! Stop joking around!"

Still, Iria continued.

"All you need to do is find a weak spot in whatever prison they're gonna hold you in, break out, get to the nearest airport and fly to America."

"Heh. Easier said than done."

"You'll do fine. She's in TerraSave, right? I don't know. Cause havoc in your other form and they'll be coming after you."

"Yeaaah, and Wesker wouldn't find me that easy at all... Besides...I don't really want to show her...'this'." He spread out his arms on himself.

"Oh, you're beating yourself around the bush. Don't you know it's the personality women like over looks?"

"So my good looks and award-winning smile aren't going to cut it?" Steve smirked.

"Heel boy. Heel."

She scooped up another piece of the cake.

"...It's not fair."

The spoon hung in the air as she glanced back. Now, Steve's face was more downcast than before.

"That I'm leaving and you all are still struck here."

The air between them stiffened. Again, another conflicting feeling of repentance all for being the luckiest resident to finally be off this terrible place. But Iria understood.

How ironic for the kiddo to just brighten things up for them and outside. For a kid who relied on himself, he has made connections since his awakening. And out of those connections, it was an equivalent exchange: he was human while his interactions with others were meaningful.

Every time she spent with the kiddo, she felt she was closer to being normal again. Not the doctor, Frankenstein, who created an abomination as equally destructive as the Kronos virus.

This was where Iria would have grabbed the nearest thick folder and hit him on the head. Snap him out of his rout. Stop thinking too much about the consequences and the burdens.

These burdens were the islanders' to keep, not to add on his. It wasn't his decision to bring family to the same island where horrors slept below the waves. His hands on crafting bit by bit on that tiny but deadly organism.

Iria never wanted the kiddo to share the pain. This was her chains to carry.

So she lightly slapped him on the head with her hand.

He glanced up, stunned by the light whack. The gentle smile from the woman more than a decade older than him just easily reassured him.

She was after all, one tough cookie.

"You don't have to worry about us. Keep that up and you'll be ruining your lovely red hair with grey." She straightened up in her seat. "We got this. Just need the right timing to execute it. At least put a little more faith in us."

Yeah, the _**plan**_.

Steve had been quite tight to the group of scientists – mainly because they were supervising over his body and mind since the day he was brought to the facility. His dead body, actually. Many things had happened after he first opened his eyes, both good and bad to the point he had to discard his "rely on oneself except guns" philosophy.

In this kind of environment, there was no way he could rely on his own. There had been a breaking point that nearly endangered a life.

Because of that knitted connection, he was openly told of Iria's plan. The nine scientists in her group, along with the right people, were with her on this one plan regardless if one mistake would end them. A plan hidden from Wesker, from his henchmen, from those who she couldn't trust or risk.

Escape off the island.

Iria was manipulative and good at that. Not directly to people but to her own job. Being a head director, yes, she had a tighter watch on herself but she was a clever woman. Used every string quietly to figure and plot out the plan.

Steve had no part in the plan since after all, he was still in a coma when they were setting the pieces together. But Iria labelled him as one of them, a trapped islander.

All of them would get off, she heavily vouched on that.

But still, he was afraid.

He wasn't going to be around. At least, as a tyrant, if danger came and the plan failed, he could be their defense. He could do something.

Steve stared straight at Iria and then sighed. That matured grit she cast onto him told him to stop fussing.

Yeah, a little faith. Heck, the things these people did would amaze anyone. He knew how capable they were.

"Yeah, I know," he said in defeat. He went about to eating his cake but his mind still lingered. "Hey, Doc. If I do get out, is there anyone you want me looking for? You know, any family?"

She shook her head.

"I don't really know much about my father's side... My mother's side, I think I had an uncle but he passed away before me and Carme got to know him... Never really kept close contact other than my father and Jared... And they're gone too."

Steve mentally cursed at himself. _Stupid, you're making it worse._

He learned so much about the scientist. About everyone. For nine years, no one has left the island. Not even made a single call to their friends and families outside.

Hearing news that they've passed away was the worst one that he couldn't imagine the pain. Trapped on an island and hearing word only from HELIX themselves that your father, mother, daughter, son, sister, brother, grandfather, grandmother, or anyone close to you has died without you there.

Iria had endured four family deaths in her life. And all she had left in this world were the kids...

"Maybe HELIX's bullshitting you guys. Lying out of their ass that your pops and brother-in-law are dead."

Iria hummed a soft laugh. "Yeah, that would be nice... But frankly, whether or not they're alive, HELIX would have done something to them," she admitted. "I know my father, Steve. He was a very influencing man... Doesn't make it easy to think that HELIX would have kept him quiet or..."

She stopped herself. She didn't want to say it.

"...This Jared person..." Steve pricked her out of her little gloom. "He was a marine, right?"

A faint smile but Iria nodded. "A bit high-strung though. A man married to his job, I suppose. But he knew what was important to him." She uttered a laugh at a memory. "He loved his coffee black. If you dare put sugar or milk, he'd dump the coffee away and make a new one. He hates anything too sweet. But Jared wouldn't admit it. He used to play house with Hannah when she was small." Her laugh became strong. "I nearly broke out laughing, seeing him try to keep a straight face at all the sugar cookies she had. But Jared loved playing with the kids..."

Steve had always found it startling that Iria, a highly-intelligent woman, was indirectly coupled with a navy family. An odd combination. Hannah and Randy had talked about it despite how faint the memory was for them – how both their father and uncle were proud soldiers. Their father, however, ended his navy career young to follow down a different path while their uncle continued.

The last thing the small family had heard from Jared was his departure into Desert Storm...

"Any old friends?" Steve asked again with a hint of hopefulness.

She shook her head again.

Great, just great. This was spiraling too deep. As ironic as it sounded, this nightmarish island was practically their home and there was nothing out there for Iria and the kids other than freedom.

He admitted to himself, he was never one to be great at these kinds of talks. Iria was, not him.

"It's alright."

The comment was sudden. Iria shone out her calmness, a strength that has been tested many times by external and internal stress through the years, as she forked in another piece.

"I'll be the happiest woman on the earth if I know the kids and you are off this island. That's all that matters to me. So what awaits us out there...I'll headbutt it straight on."

Steve faintly laughed. God, was he going to miss this older woman's weird humour.

"Say, Doc?"

"Hm?"

"What will you do once you get off this island?"

She was taken by surprise.

"Huh..." Good question. What would she do after she and everyone got off... All the time, escape was all that mattered but never had she thought of the repercussion. "I don't know."

It was an honest answer.

She thought deeper. Then smiled caringly at him.

"Probably look for you," she started, receiving a gleeful beam from the kiddo. "Make amends to the kids for all the years of being the worst aunt ever." She gave a steady nod of the head. "Maybe..."Then it was her turn to look downcast. "...Maybe get Carme and Andrew new gravestones."

Again, silence – this time, Iria fiddled with an old watch she always wore.

Man, he had to stop opening up old wounds on her. Steve wished he could take it back now but the stiff expression of nostalgia took him not to take it to heart.

The two closest people in the world that Iria ever had a struggle speaking about. He had been told they died in a car accident, three years before the Raccoon City incident.

Buried exactly in the same city that was completely destroyed in a blink of an eye.

"You know," Iria broke the silence between them with a light beam. "I've heard some years ago that a memorial stone was put up for Raccoon City in Weston... Don't know if anyone put their names on it... Probably not. The accident happened before the outbreak..."

Silence again. She tried her best to be hopeful but Steve could tell the years had worn her down.

No. He was not going to let the hesitancy derail their conversation.

"Well, they should," he suddenly hollered. "And if they didn't, I'll demand them to."

The utter first lightly surprised Iria but she smiled thankfully.

"You never cease to amaze me, Kiddo...but thank you-"

_Clap, clap, clap!_

It was an ominous sound that brought the party to a crashing halt. It silenced everyone in a matter of seconds, even alerting Iria up from her seat and casting a dark angry look at the intruder.

Inside this research facility, Steve learned one thing clear. There was one person everyone _**hated**_.

The man, no longer wearing his black trench but to a more suitable and comfortable outfit, clapped his hands mockingly as he entered unannounced and followed by two henchmen in arms.

"A fine day to be celebrating," Wesker droned to break the silence. "Seems like I didn't get my invitation though."

No one agreed with him. No one gave a retort.

"Oh, come now. Don't make me a party pooper. It is the last day for Burnside."

"What do you want?"

Steve hissed. Yes, he hissed at him. This wasn't the first time.

"Steve." It was a quiet warning from Iria – _don't step out of your place_. He knew that perfectly clear. Everyone had a place on this island.

But that didn't mean he liked it.

"Isn't it obvious, Burnside?" Wesker began. "The helicopter is here. It's time to get going."

Steve eyed him widely. So soon?

He studied warily at everyone. Everyone's faces were the same – darkened and sad.

"I am truly sorry for cutting this party short but we must make haste today."

"No, you're not," Samson grumbled under his breath, caring less if he was heard or not.

"Shall we get going?"

Wesker waited. For the redhead to follow after him.

Be a good obedient pet were the words written on his face.

But Steve stayed put, daggers at him.

"I see. You want to say your farewells to all of them. Hmph," Wesker mused. "Pointless, really. I've been saying this, my boy. Your attachment to them is merely for Stockholm syndrome."

_Fuck off! Don't you dare spin this around!_ Steve kept those words inside.

"Let him."

Iria's remark crumpled at the blond-haired man's glee.

She stood unflinching. There was a tiring and annoying reaction in those hazel eyes that he disliked to see.

As long as she was with the specimen, she'd always foil his attempts to lure the redhead like a sheep to the wolf.

"Doesn't matter if he wastes five minutes to say goodbye to us."

The silence stayed for a moment.

Then Wesker gave up. One minute, five minutes, it didn't matter indeed. "Five minutes." He then walked away. "These two will escort you to the deck, Burnside."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

He stopped and glanced curiously at the half-Spanish. "And what would that be?"

Iria narrowed her eyes tighter.

"Ah. You mean the Kronos Virus?" It sounded more like faking stupidity than asking for confirmation. "I recall you saying you needed more time. So I'm giving you time."

Iria didn't buy it.

Figures.

"I will see you at the elevator."

The suffocating feeling tagged along the blond but only after a few more seconds, everyone at last breathed easily. There were the two underdogs but whenever that man seemed to stroll in unexpectedly, there was a mysterious force that took the air out of them.

"Gaargh!" Terry grunted. "Can't take a break with that guy looming around."

"I think I lost a few years from that." Yves heaved deeply to calm down his skipping heart.

"So...I guess this is goodbye then."

The unsettlement was tossed away by the grinding feeling after Zach grimly pointed that out.

All eight scientists had the same pained expression.

Iria showed the deepest painful face ever.

"It's ok," Steve tried his best to reassure. Sheepishly, he dragged his hand through his hair, hoping not to sound sappy. "I'd be lying if I said things will go great. I know it's not going to be easy... But I'll be ok. I'm fucking tough as nails."

Iria snickered.

"Yeah," she said. "You'll do fine."

The smiles crawled back on their faces.

Victor's hand then drew out towards Steve. "It was good to have you around, Kid."

A handshake. Something Steve didn't think a specimen would get.

But he shook it.

"Here on out, you're out there alone so you better hold your head high," Terry barked, rushing his red hair again. "Or else I'll be coming after you myself!"

"Don't you forget us, you hear?" Jose claimed on his hand too and shook it. "And you better shout out to the whole world about us."

"Don't let that man get to you!" Katherine muttered, both hands seizing his as if giving a sign of protection. Her eyes watered just a little but she did her best to keep the tears in. "And take care of yourself."

One by one, everyone shook his head and said their farewells.

Finally, it was Iria's turn.

She kept on a straight smile but he could tell how hard this was. Still, Steve hoped she wasn't going to be all sentimental.

He was a grown man, for goodness sake. There were times he didn't know _**why**_ she treated him like a child.

"Well..." She struggled a bit internally. "...Goodbye, Kiddo."

Ok. No crying out tears, screaming, "NO! Like HELL am I letting you go that easily, Kiddo!". Or become some emotional wreck that it'd make it harder for him to leave.

Maybe she finally decided to give him the decency of being an adult. Leave the nest in a mature fashion.

Though, now that Steve thought about it, that kind of sucked...

Still, he didn't waver, still keeping up his beam. "Bye, Doc..."

He went through the entrance. He could feel the two HCF soldiers tag along behind him. Ugh. Guess this was something he had to get used to.

"Steve?"

He wheeled around –

– and was taken by surprise at the spread-out arms wrapping around him in an instant.

The blond-haired scientist was giving him a hug. A tight one that if she'd let go, she would lose him forever. But it was warm, motherly.

Very much like his mom...

Only then had he realized how thin she had gotten. Or was it just himself? How much of a change he had become growing up on the island...

The next words out of Iria would be kept in him closely.

"I'm grateful to have had you like a son, Steve," Iria softly whispered.

Another surprise out of her...but he didn't reject the idea.

In fact, he was thankful. Being as close as family to her in this hellhole...

This woman, this crazy four-eyed overly-stressed genius who unofficially called herself his legal guardian – sometimes, he couldn't understand why she brought him, a mutated monster, under her wing. Why she made many risks for him. There was no reward out of him and she didn't care of the virus inside of him.

But did those questions matter now?

He tightened his arms. "Hey, Doc. I'm glad I've met you."

It wasn't too long and it wasn't too short. They eventually released each other from the squeeze.

Iria, out of habit, combed the fringe out of his eyes. Steve would have told her to stop and utter that he wasn't a kid.

But this time, he simply smiled.

A silent wave hung out from her as the kiddo turned back and followed the two HCF guards. The hand still stayed up, even as Steve glanced over a few times.

Until they were gone into the lift.

Slowly and unhappily, the rest of the scientists walked back into the cafeteria and soon, back to their still, monotonous schedule. The party was over and now was time to clean. Only Victor stayed at the entrance, seeing just how lonely Iria stood in the hallway.

He walked up to her. "Going to be quiet without the kiddo around."

Victor stayed behind her. He watched as the half-Spanish woman took off her glasses and wiped away the starting wetness from her eyes. He knew her too well – she didn't want to show the waterworks to anyone, even her colleagues.

"Now I know how it feels like to be seeing your own kid go off to war..." She put back her glasses and after a deep breath to shake off her gloom, Iria continued. "Any news?"

Back to business but on a day like this, they had every right to be on their toes.

"Nothing. I've asked people downstairs. Wesker hasn't gone down to Level D."

Iria nervously bit her thumb. "Harris said Kailey is still working. That means nothing has come up in the videos too."

"You think Wesker's intention is only on the kid?"

Iria held her annoyed laugh inside. Wesker was a demanding man. He'd want more out of a small little packet every time he would come visit. "No. The virus's tests ended three hours ago. There's no way he'd pass this opportunity."

"Then he's just using the kid's transportation as cover."

"It's likely. The only question is; what is he covering?" Iria muttered.

She narrowed her eyes tighter. As much as she'd love to stop the transportation in an instant, she couldn't risk Steve's only chance of escape. The fact that Wesker had another hidden trick that she couldn't see behind the transfer was all the more making her anxious inside.

"The one thing I hate about that man," she admitted quietly. "Is the fact I don't know what his next move is going to be."

_***/*/*/***_

"I hate all of you."

Kailey Bernard, African American, thirty-six and one of two immunologists in Iria's team, poked at the cake in her possession with a soured pout. Watching the last three hours of tapes two days long was voluntary and she wouldn't object to doing this one important task for Iria.

What she kind of hated was that she was left out of the kiddo's farewell party.

Harris took a seat beside her and ran his fingers on the surveillance dial. "Can't be helped. Has to be someone to do this job while everyone takes the kid's mind off things."

She made a peculiar mumble with a piece of cake in her mouth. "Yes. But you all got to say goodbye to him."

"You know, you could just say no. Iria would have asked someone else."

"Out of the question."

"Excuse me."

The two scientists rolled back to the voice. Standing at the entrance of the surveillance room was an officer who had clocked in for the shift. Kailey had managed to convince the officer to leave the cameras empty for her to look back at footage.

Three hours, however, was now overstretching the proposal.

"I think you guys have overstayed your time here. My captain will have my head roll if he finds out staff's been snooping around."

"Ah, don't be such a worrywart," Kailey uttered. "It's basically like watching a movie...a very unentertaining movie."

"I'm sorry. But whatever business you looneys have, I don't want any part of it and I certainly don't want to be _**fired**_ because of it."

"Well, ain't that a problem?" Harris droned calmly. "But we need another hour or so."

"Hour? If anyone sees you here, they'll fry my hide off!"

"That's why you're going to say you were off on a break. It's still lunch hour."

"What! ? Now, hang on-"

"You know." Harris picked up his untouched plate and waved it slowly around like the charming flute of a snake charmer. "Christian sure made a masterpiece this time round."

The officer's eyes lit up as he nervously swallowed. "Christian's bakery?"

"Yes, sire. Red velvet too. Too bad I ain't hungry right now. Would be a waste." The Texan shrugged high his shoulders and soon, neared his plate towards an open trashbin.

"Ah-!" The officer accidentally gasped, nearly jerking forth to stop him from doing the stupidest thing in his entire life.

Harris caught him in his trap. Like he was intending to do that. Yves would wring his neck tight if he saw this.

"Oh, my manners." Years of a poker face has benefited him greatly in his devious acts. He raised up the plate to the officer. "Should have asked if you wanted this."

The officer gritted his teeth out of ache for a taste. Also partly out of anger at the hole he was put in.

"...You have an hour. But I'm in the next room."

"Glad to do business with you," Harris said, handing him the piece of cake. "Be sure to savour the flavour."

With the officer gone, happily admiring the decorated red cake, the two turned back to the screens.

"With that nuisance out of the way, anything so far?"

"Nope," Kailey grumbled. "Haven't gotten past the 12-hour mark. Still nothing." She flopped back in her seat. "I don't like this one bit. I'm already getting paranoid that bastard's going to pull a fast one on us."

"Agree with you there. Doesn't make it easy that we were all set for today. Fine time for him to be deciding a transfer."

"You don't suppose he-?"

"Found out? Doesn't cross my mind. But Wesker would have done something already. That's our least worry though."

"Yeah, yeah. The virus... Doesn't make it easy with that thought of us being expendables at this point."

"If it comes to that, well, we might as well go all redneck crazy at them," he proposed. "For now, let's not worry 'bout that yet. If nothin' turns up, we can get on with 'it'."

Kailey nodded, despite how itchy her anxiety was.

"You think we'll be able to meet it before the storm hits? We're cutting it real close."

"Not much choice. Worse come to shove, we'll stay sheltered till the hurricane blows over."

"Ugggh, not a better choice either... The longer we stay here, the more grey hair I sprout. What a day," she groaned, forking in a piece. Ah well, the only good thing was the sweet, rich red velvet and cheese cream taste teasing at her tastebuds to calm down the paranoia. "We're never going to see Stevie again and I didn't get to say goodbye to him. To be honest, I'm not really looking forward to work if he's not around anymore."

"Hm-hm," Harris hummed, his eyes still on the screen.

Then they filleted out wide.

It was sudden that it frightened Kailey. The Texan man bolted up from his chair, his hands slammed on the console.

The face she saw on him was a rare one. Fear and anger wrapped into one.

"Harris? What's wrong?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he uttered, "Of course. That son of a gun!"

"Harris!" But he was already out of the doors.

Kailey looked back up to the screen. The video had paused at a shot down near an area everyone knew well. She rewound it back, trying to put the pieces together.

Harris saw something. What was it?

She hit the play and watched carefully.

She didn't even hear someone stroll into the surveillance room on high heels. The security guard, happily eating the red velvet cake, didn't notice the visitor before elegant and swift hands gripped his head tight and quietly jerked it in a near 180-degree.

Kailey was all too occupied to hear the stranger walk slowly up to her.

"Wait, but that's-" She stopped, gave a much closer look at the video and became even more puzzled. "No. That's not her. Then what..."

Again, she ceased talking and pulled out her cellphone. No point in asking questions. This officially was a red flag.

"Got to warn the others." She looked back to the monitors, ready to hit the dial Iria's number. She squinted her eyes at one little small object she could spot within the video. Oddly enough, it looked familiar. Moreover, that _thing_ shouldn't be down there "Oh my god. Isn't that-?"

_Click!_

She froze for less than one second. That sound was very much close from behind.

Kailey spun around.

Only to spot the black barrel of a silencer pointed between her eyes.

_Shi-_

_Bang!_

_***/*/*/***_

_Ding!_

Steve glanced miserably at the blinking numbers above him. Two more levels and they'd be at the top.

He'd be off the island for good.

No more playing games with Randy. No more beach strolls with Hannah. No more talks with Iria. No more going to Marge's diner. No more routine runs with Kent and his men. No more handlers. No more friends.

No more having what he truly and oddly considered this one year as a normal life.

Out there, he was surely expecting himself to be locked up in a smaller, duller cell. No longer the privileges he was given thanks to Iria – he would be on a tighter leash. And the folks there would probably be as rotten and hostile towards him as possible. All he was told by Wesker was that it was a small militia facility. That he'd be a solider like Wesker himself. He expected great things out of him...

That was the only thing he could offer? Steve would have discarded it in an instant.

But he also knew what kind of man Wesker was. Iria knew better too.

Had he said no, Wesker would have done something drastic to_** make **_him say yes.

He had one time used Iria's family as leverage against him, already noticing how close Steve had gotten to them.

And Steve went ballistic on him.

Really sad, though. That hotshot took him down easily and would have ended him had Iria not stepped in, ready to shoot him down.

Many times Steve had been played like a fool by Wesker, like everyone else had inside the facility. And many times, he had to repeat the words from his handlers, remind himself not to let him know his mind games and psychological abuse weren't working to a great degree. Yes, Steve still had the scars. But he wouldn't drop down to his knees.

This was one of them for sure. To see just how loyal he was to Wesker.

Was there any way he could, oh, toss him into the sea?

"Why such a sorrowful face, Burnside?" Wesker's mocking voice breezed at his back like shivers. "Africa is an enjoyable, exotic country. I'm sure you enjoy the atmosphere there then here."

Steve cast a small glare at him but then looked back to the doors. One wrong move and he'd probably be needled down with anaesthetic.

He was alone now.

No Doc. No Harris or Kailey. No Victor, Katherine, everyone.

Steve had never known how grateful he truly was until he found himself losing it all.

He lost everything before. And now it was happening again. How ironic.

_Ding!_

The sound was a sound he didn't think would hold up like a knife into him. Light slipped through the opening gap, wider and wider until he was hit by the bright morning sun, the rushing salt smell and the loud cackling of seagulls.

There was a continuous woosh-woosh noise of spinning blades. In the middle of the large deck, -having risen up from the hidden facility – was a black helicopter, fit to taste for Wesker no doubt.

Their only means of travelling off this island. And for good.

Wesker was the first to exit the elevator. Steve hung stiff in between. He ignored the two henchmen's order to hurry him forward.

The blond-haired man looked back and only grinned at him.

"What's the hold up, my dear boy?"

One step forward and they'd be off.

But...

His legs wouldn't go.

His dominant side, the one with a conscious, was scared to leave.

Was it right? Leaving everyone behind?

Everyone he now considered close?

The other side, the monstrous one, didn't care. It didn't matter to it if they stayed here or were elsewhere. It just wanted to rest.

Bunch of help that side was...

"Are we having second thoughts?"

_Shut up. _Steve could feel that damn smirk drilling further into his uncertainty.

But that was the truth.

He didn't want to leave everyone.

Iria had constantly told him he was important. She had always and strongly made it a point that there was someone waiting for him.

That someone, she has said many times, was Claire.

That, however, was unfair.

Why was he special that he had someone outside to live for while everyone on the island weren't? Why should he even have this one chance of escape?

Why should he leave everyone?

The memories flashed in his mind. The good ones and soon, he felt his eyes a little wet.

The whole world had forgotten them, including him. But right on this island of false paradise...

Steve wondered. If it was Claire in his shoes, would she easily ditch these people? No, would anyone?

The answer he knew clearly: No. How could anyone do that?

Then stay, the monstrous side of his mind grouched at him.

"Get a move on!" one of the thugs behind him ordered.

It had been a long time since he prayed hard for a miracle. Steve begged hard for something to happen. Anything.

He was helpless. The moment he'd retaliate, there would be many outcomes: being shot, being incapacitated down, and the list went on. And more consequences would follow.

_Please..._

So he wished for a reason to react.

_Please! Something fucking happen!_

_Click!_

The sound of a gun after that of the elevator doors opening twitched at his right ear. Far. But it was different from that of a normal handgun.

He knew the standard. Only scientists and non-security personnel could carry it in case of emergency, for their own protection.

Harris stood behind them, taser gun pointed straight at Wesker.

"Harris?"

"Wesker," Harris didn't pay mind to Steve's call, glaring ferociously at the man in black. "What did you do?"

Steve tensed on the spot.

"Tell me!" the scientist demanded. "What did you do! ?"

The grin on Wesker's face just seemed to stretch out only by a millimetre.

_***/*/*/***_

_Tick! Tick! Tick!_

Down in the server room, where the very heart of the facility's hardware lied awake, a small little black box echoed within the smallest cranny so quietly that the no tech could hear it.

Numbers counted down.

_***/*/*/***_

"Remember that one time he beat us at poker during that night with Kent's men?" Samson laughed, folding away the table cloth. "Man, did he know his cards well."

"Of course, Kailey thought him everything about poker," Jose mumbled.

"How much did we lose that night? $200 dollars?"

"220. We were desperate then," Zach corrected. "Exactly what did he spend that money on anyway?"

"How should I know? He doesn't spend any time inside that room of his. It's still as bland as the day he got it."

"Well, he could have put something there."

Jose raised an eyebrow. "Oh, like what?"

"I dunno. A cactus?"

"Really? A cactus?"

"Hey. Those are easy to keep. Don't need much water."

"Why are you all making a fuss what he did with it? You lost a poker game and it became his money," Katherine snapped lightly.

"Come on. You got to be at least curious about what he spent on."

She simply rolled her eyes.

"Oh, wait! It was that red plane model, right? He spent it on that!"

"Hang on." Samson glanced with puzzlement. "He bought off from Ramos three months ago. And 220 for a toy? Doubtful."

"Well, it's the Ramos twins. Their prices are ridiculous!"

Terry chuckled loud. "The kid's been gone for two minutes and already everyone's being nostalgic." He glanced at Iria, noting her face still glum. She had taken out her phone, flipped it open and gazed at the screen with an empty look. Probably looking at photos of the kids.

"Ah, come on, Iria. Don't be so down."

"Kailey hasn't reported back."

It was soft that only Terry and Victor had heard, now perking at their suspicion.

Iria was used to being called paranoid by other co-workers. But that paranoia had been helpful.

She had little experience in combat strategy – basically, her own system was founded on what her brother-in-law taught her but it was one of many things she was grateful for.

She calmed herself down. She couldn't think of the worst possible situations. Kailey had Harris as her partner and they were both capable on their own.

Iria shook her head. "I'm overthinking again."

She breathed in and breathed out, withdrawing her phone into her pocket.

"Yeah... I'm just overthinking it."

***/*/*/***

_Tick! Tick! Tick!_

The last seconds drew to an end.

3...2...1… _Beep!_

Artificial lighting erupted from the small little box and throughout the server room, filling up with the blinding flash of light and the deep thunderous roar. It didn't leave much of a destructive crater but its invisible pulses ripped into the circuits and jammed at the internal systems. Not enough to corrupt and destroy the facility's software but enough to turn the only AI security offline. Temporarily.

And with that, every electronic structure inside the facility shut down into darkness.

For one moment of chaos.

***/*/*/***

It took them by surprise. The whole building turned dark in a blind of an eye and everything froze in a matter of forty seconds.

Then redness blinked rapidly.

The emergency lights spun above the scientists head as their eyes darted nervously at the sudden crisis in the cafeteria.

"Is this another blackout?" Jose asked.

No one answered straight away at the terrifying obvious answer. But no matter how recognizable it was, it did not quench down their concern.

"That's strange," Katherine uttered, hitting the buttons on her phone on the urge to call up Kailey or Harris. "Service's down."

Slowly, some of the scientists fished out their cellphones too and tapped away. No bars.

"What's going on?" Samson asked.

"Calm down," Zach tried his best to hide the anxiety. "We're on the top levels. No way it'd be like that incident... Right?"

His word croaked weakly.

Terry then stood forth and slowly headed to the entrance. "We'll just have to wait it out, I suppose. Come on. Let's head upstairs."

Everyone agreed. Yves waved to the cooks behind the serving tables to follow. There was no point in staying put here. The only safest place would be at the lobby.

Just in case...

"Something's wrong."

Victor curiously eyed the head director, noting the deep consuming worry in her.

"GAIAN is taking too long to come back online," Iria hissed through her teeth warily.

His mouth gaped open, just nearly enough for his toothpick to tilt down.

He could say that perhaps, it was delaying just a bit. Some human error as the techs below hurried to get the system back to normal. Victor, however, stopped himself.

The only problem was Iria had been down this road before.

_ "GAAAAAARGH! ! !"_

And immediately, all eight scientists swung their hands onto their taser guns holstered at their backs or sides. Eyes fixed onto the entrance.

The scream was bloodcurdling but familiar. Not only because of who that scream was – another employee on the same level as they were – but also what _**caused**_ it.

A man being ripped apart and devoured by a monster.

"C-Can't be," Zach cagily whimpered. "They couldn't have escaped..."

The moment was tense under the raging noise. Many times, they had their experiences altogether or separately where crisis would come at any corner. All too well did they know it would be a fool to be gunless when factors could alter the course.

Sweat trickled down Terry's brow. Cautiously, he neared closer to the entrance.

"Terry!" Victor whispered harshly but a hand from him held up, drastically reassuring him that he'd be fine.

Terry pulled out his taser and readied a clip while mentally reading a psalm to himself. Yes, he was both a religious man and a man of science but he wasn't one to see blurry lines.

It was ironic. He had been shaking off his duties in his faith because of how scarred one could be working in this place. He was doubtful his prayer was heard.

Whatever one's religion was, his god, everyone's gods, had clearly abandoned them long ago.

Hurling in one deep breath, Terry stomped out.

Nothing in the hallway.

What was strange was the lack of people. Did they hurry to the stairways?

The big man breathed again. Still, was stupid of them to think any escapee would have rocketed from below all the way to the second floor. "False alarm. Nothing's outside-"

"_**Terry!**_"

It was rather strange for one second, seeing all the faces of his colleagues stare horrid at him.

No, at something.

He felt a wet heavy drop on his shoulder.

Already, Terry knew. It was too late for him. This was a cliché moment he had seen too many times in movies.

So he accepted his fate on the spot, deciding to get over with it. And warily glanced up.

Midway of the hall and the entrance was a predator hungry for blood. It no longer could be considered near human – probably a combination to a harpy and a brain-exposed, skinless monster he heard once. Its body was sleek, long and streamlined that overall, many had described it to be 'feminine' despite the hosts' original gender.

It stuck to the ceiling so easily thanks to its hands and feet – all board and flat with sharp deadly talons digging into cement. Its hands were like small wings while its feet like that of a giant bird. This specimen could not fly but it most certainly could sprint on any surface like lighting.

It was made to be the best and quietest raider in the list of BOWs.

Its head had opened up like a flower with petals drawn far back. The exposed flesh, bone and brain tissue appallingly tangled together to make it like it bore a sick joke of feathered ears. Mockingly, its long tongue drew out in a slow, wary manner like a blind anteater trying to search for its food source.

Terry didn't dare to swallow. To move. To do anything in that stretched out seconds.

One of all the BOWs in their workshop of horrors, codenamed Erinye, had escaped and managed to weasel up to their level in lighting speed.

The ladylike gecko freak slowly circled its head about. Right! It was completely blind from that biological satellite dish in its head.

_Kak, kak!_

It clicked its teeth and faced directly at him.

He also forgot about its echolocation.

Yes. God had abandoned them.

Teeth flashed too fast for him to see them maul onto his neck.

"TERRY!" Iria screamed.

***/*/*/***

_Hhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrnnnnnngggggg! Hhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrnnnnnngggggg!_

On the deck of the facility, the alarm rang through the horns, stirring panic into a few personnel who were in charge of overseeing the surface. It was a sound Steve had never heard during his time on Cape Inacio but most certainly knew its meaning.

Steve couldn't help but feel dreadfully cold.

"What! ?" Harris yelled at the emergency siren. Confusion warped at his face as he struggled to comprehend the situation.

Only Wesker had all the answers. He smirked a little wider, remaining where he stood with pride. And that all the more drove at the two's uneasiness.

He was the composer after all.

The first of the dominos had fallen.

* * *

><p><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**Erinye**

Based: Human

Date of creation: Presumably between 1997 to 2006

Created via: Further mutation of a Shade or in laboratory conditions, or introduction of the Kronos virus to a Licker specimen

Purpose: Natural mutation, Kronos Virus infection, BOW

The Erinye is a specimen with two varied origins: a mutation experienced by Shades after a period of time or a Licker mutated further after introducing the Kronos virus to it. The mutations transform them into more flexible but deadlier and nimble forms of hunters.

The Erinye is one of several specimens as part of the Kronos project and kept within the Theseus Research Facility's more secured levels. They were created to be potential bio-weapons that could be more effective in stealth. During the 2006 outbreak, they and many other specimens are escaping because of a sudden power failure in the system, and wreaking havoc within the facility.

While similar to a Licker, its most striking appearance is its slender structure which benefits to its agility and momentum. Erinyes have the capability to move swiftly as quadrupedal or bipedal but they show preference to crawling on all fours on any surface to surprise their prey. Their large, spread-out claws and talons, though rather thin appendages, have enough grip to hold its entire weight up to the ceiling and move about with little difficulty in gravity and noise. Like a Licker, they lack eyes and cannot detect a prey by sight. It, however, relies heavily on echolocation to locate, and gather sounds bounced off objects into its convex head. Its elongated tongue, just as effective as a Licker's tongue in piercing human flesh and even decapitating, can also detect these soundwaves and even smell particles. Thanks to their advanced primal intellect, they have many dangerous tactics. Not only can it seek out its prey easily but if necessary, an Erinye can choose to lie in wait and grab an unsuspecting prey with its claws much like a Venus fly trapper, even while holding onto the ceiling. Overall, this becomes a powerful master of covertness. The presence of an Erinye can often be hinted by its echolocating sounds.

In recent files, HELIX has started establishment to sell Erinyes for the BOW market. The buyer currently taking in Erinyes is the terrorist group, the Rasuls, in the Middle East.

The name Erinyes comes from the Greek mythology, female chthonic deities of vengeance. They are also referred to as Furies. The Furies' task was to hear complaints brought by mortals with discrimination towards others and punish such crimes by hounding culprits relentlessly.

* * *

><p>Vickie: HEYA GUYS! First chapter of second episode is finished! :D Yeeeeey! This took a while cuz of the interactions, MAINLY WESKER. : I dunno if I've made him as sinister as he normally is in games. And yes, NEW ENEMY. :3

Btw, just so you know, yes, I have a long list of enemies already done. :P

So yes, mainly this episode is gonna be about what happened just after the outbreak. Yeah, I guess it sounds like a filler but really, there are some points that needs explaining and some interactions I want to show more of, especially Steve's connection with the island as brief as it is now.

Another factor is Iria. Basically, from her past experiences and family, she knows how to lead even if she has little combat skills – which actually, she has high intelligence to make up for that lack (No, really, the amount of stuff I'm going to write is like crazy thinking on her part). While she is a head director, she also has her own group not only as like close buddies but also as an effective and trusted team and with their own skills.

A little bit more about her team. They work together whenever they can despite being in different branches but if split up, they'll always tag with their assigned partners. Victor and Katherine, Harris and Kailey, Terry and Jose, and Samson, Yves and Zach. Iria is on her own because of how dangerous her position is to them. You could say there've been incidents where stepping in to help could very much put yourself at risk. Incidentally, Iria has been through a lot that she knows what to do to the tooth if alone. And it doesn't always mean that her co-workers will abandon her at times. Most of the time, they rely solely on their own conversations skills than taser guns to get them out of a bad situation. I will say that sadly, only two scientists are gonna be playable characters in this story. Would be cool to have a lot but their classes would still be mostly interference regardless and I had already planned who's a playable character. I guess the extras could be playable characters for other modes? –shrugs–

And yeah, now we get to the point that lives are being lost. Sad to say that Terry and Kailey are immediately killed. Truth be told…those were few of my favourite OCs. :'( No really. I made Kailey as having been a DNA analyst in a police force before she joined as a scientist and Terry's the big bear of the group all cuz he played hockey! There's little details hidden like Yves is actually in a healthy homosexual relationship and Harris, being one of Steve's handlers, has a huge knowledge of planes and so on. Even more like what their families that are being leveraged like Iria's niece and nephew and their purposes to why they'll keep working on a virus. Which this one important purpose you'll learn later. And it ain't about fame or reputation. But yeah, virus = death so I just can't make it that easy that "Hey, everyone lives". Wishful thinking really.

Also, yeah, you're probably asking why I'm giving Steve a liking to planes. Here's the thing: we had a seventeen-year-old kid who knew how to fly a plane in Code: Veronica. I think that's safe to say he had some dream about being a pilot or something before the whole incident. So that's my interpretation. And this will open a lot more doors on his character design for sure. :D

Alright, this note is done. I've delayed enough. Hope you guys enjoy this new instalment and yessss, YESSSS, I GET INTO THE GORE PART! WHOO-HOO! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews as well! Happy reading and reviewing!

PS. I've changed some names in the second chapter. Originally there's a character there named Jerrod Matthews, Leon's friend and navy guy. But thanks to a friend, Sheenah (check out her fics btw!), I've decided to change Jerrod to Jared and Matthews to Blackwell. That name Blackwell will be coming as often as Redfield btw. :3

Edit: Ok so I screwed up the age on Steve. Changed it.


	8. Chapter Seven: Difficult Choices

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Difficult Choices<strong>

* * *

><p><em>31 May 2006, 11:44 A.M.<em>

_Level C, Theseus Research Facility_

SCREAMS ripped through the hallways like the demented chorus of tortured souls in Dante's Inferno. The panicked staff ran amok, flooding into the stairways for escape. Not just by the beeping emergency warning but by the freed Erinyes darting about like snakes.

One such elegant fury managed to slither into one staircase and climbed its way up.

An unlucky scientist huddled back in terror as it launched at him and with its pecked teeth digging right into his face.

What made it worse was its twirling body blocking the people's only way to the next floor.

"Wait, no!" one of them cried out as the very door soon closed on them.

Shut by a group of security officers.

The door was quickly barred from the other side.

"There are still people down there!" one officer yelled.

"No choice! We can't let the infected reach to the upper floors!" his second-in-command – after their team captain was easily separated and decapitated – uttered. He took up the nozzle of his equipped flamethrower, pointed directly at a pack of wandering Shades.

And pulled the lever.

_FFFFFFSSSSSSSOOORR!_

"Die, you fucking bastards!"

The hot red waves swept across the floor, disintegrating the minor enemies.

"Hurry! We need to secure the other exits at the east!"

"GAARGH!"

Behind their backs, their third teammate was suddenly rammed aside by something too fast for any eyes to see. Just as they turned to the shriek, they helplessly watched the officer be maimed and ripped apart by giant claws.

"Zander!" The second-in-command hollered.

Only in a fraction of a second, did he see another one of those leapers around a corner.

Bought BOWs paid by HELIX's finances to combat against the other Kronos-infused specimens they contained within the facility. It was for HELIX's amusement to test against Umbrella's praised creation and see it be easily crushed by their own.

Red reptilian eyes of what was considered giant armoured lizards with crooked teeth glanced at the officer.

Hunters.

There was no chance for the two remaining officers the moment the Hunter leapt onto the flamethrower wielder, one claw gibed into the gas canister.

_Pssssst!_

"Run-" It was futile for him to save his other partner.

_BOOOM!_

In a small radius, the explosion easily engulfed the two officers and specimens, spreading their burning guts across the walls.

More and more fugitive monsters were filling through the halls. It couldn't be stopped. The moment the power failure occurred, the specimens from the lower levels were spreading further into the upper levels like water rushing past a broken dam. No doors to keep them, no AI system to detain them.

Just like Rome, the Theseus Research Facility was falling from within.

* * *

><p>"How?" Harris wailed at the disorder around him. "There ain't no way there can be another outbreak!" He glared furiously at the man responsible.<p>

Why was everything falling that easily? Unless GAIAN-

"What?" Wesker opened up his arms, as if showing them cleaned of the situation. Of the bloodshed. "Did you and McLenlan believe my intention was the Kronos Virus all along? Well, you are correct."

"You couldn't. You haven't gone down for it!"

"You misunderstand. I won't be taking the virus so soon. Not just yet anyway. I just thought of killing two birds with one stone at least."

Harris could feel himself freeze. "What?"

"The orders have been made clear. Take the Kronos Virus and exterminate all witnesses, HELIX says. And I've been a little disappointed at McLenlan's decision to delay its release with more testing." Wesker stretched up his arms like a cruel version of the Messiah welcoming down Judgement Day. "So why not do the test myself on this whole island?"

Harris stared mortified, his eyes stretching as wide as they could go.

"N-No fucking way," Steve fretfully gasped.

"Of course, I'm changing the plans a little. It's business. I have a better client than HELIX. This company has pretty much run its course for my own benefits right to the end."

Harris couldn't believe his ears. This very fiend who waltzed into the company with a trump card ten years ago was now cutting off all ties as easy as butter. It had been expected that he would follow HELIX's orders to erase all evidence. But no one foresaw his own goals hiding underneath those schemes.

From the start, all of them were nothing but scapegoats. Everything was now collateral damage.

"I must give all of you credit for a job well done, however. We couldn't have gotten this far without everyone's _**cooperation**_. These last ten years have been memorable to me. So, I'm giving everyone the opportunity, instead of a quick disposal. To see just how long you try to survive against your own creations."

Haris grounded his teeth harder. Enough to feel sand. He then fastened up his gun, aimed at the man's temple.

"You bastard," he growled. One shot should suffice. Hard for anyone to survive over a million voltage to the head.

Wesker chuckled softly. "McLenlan chose the right people. Awfully cocky of you to try and stop me though."

The two HCF guards held tight their assault rifles at him, just waiting for the command. Harris knew the outcome would come out bloody. He'd be riddled with holes from top to bottom.

"A man of science against men above God. This will be an interesting show."

Harris stood his ground. This time he wasn't going to give Wesker the satisfaction of a scared little bird under the crushing hand of a bigger foe.

"This is actually a good opportunity for Burnside to test his skills on a helpless civilian. That was the primary objective after all," Wesker gloated.

Steve could feel his legs go weak, his hands shaking. He wheeled back to Harris with a panicked expression.

Harris remained unmoved. Anytime, he could have darted back into the lift.

But like hell was he abandoning the kiddo. Not with this madman.

That was the idea, wasn't it? Harris Cooper putting his life first and giving Steve the idea that he wasn't important. If the Texan had the chance, he'd put a black-eye past those sunglasses.

Already, however, the moment he left the surveillance room was when he already knew his life was forfeited. His wife would be furious at his recklessness, seeing him like this.

But that was just him being him. He couldn't change that.

"We've never really put him in a real-life situation before, have we? Well, what better time to put that to the test," Wesker explained. "Or you can simply let us go. There's really no point in stopping me. The destruction has already started."

Despite the roaring alarms, Harris didn't budge.

Fear was something he had gotten used to within the while and red walls. Experience had worn him down but also toughened him up. Even when he was just a kid who used his fists more than his smarts, he had always kept a cool head ahead of the game.

In the environment of Cape Inacio, once you lose that, you lose more than just your head.

His hands on the taser gun, Harris carefully turned up the dial without anyone noticing. At the maximum limit - a voltage range enough to kill a released specimen.

Wesker was right: he couldn't kill him and he could as well have just run to the lift.

So he might as well take the bastard down with him in this raging blaze.

Harris fired.

Wesker's smirk flattened once he realized the shot was missed. Deliberately. To his right and onwards.

He heard the frying of circuits with the burning whiff of copper stinging his nostrils.

He heard the pilot aboard the black helicopter curse and flip at the switches again as the rotor blades wheezed down.

"It was a gamble."

Behind those shades, he glanced at the Texan with surprised eyes.

"But I always wondered if ten million volts could take down that silly piece of junk of yours," Harris gloated. "That new aircraft tech are so breakable these days."

The two guards wavered their rifles down, their heads to the downed helicopter. Their only way out. "Shit! Shit!"

Steve broke out a smile. A ray of hope. Alright, now they needed to just make a break for the lift-

But one look at Harris told him to stay put, the Texan's glee washing away.

Wesker wasn't much unmoved. It was a surprise to him: a little bug able to pull off a stunt like a stone to Goliath's head.

This was a minor flaw. Nothing to worry about.

"I admire your loyalty to McLenlan. But I really do wonder how you will get out of this, Mr. Cooper."

Harris quickly dug into his pocket for the next taser clip, one foot already back.

"Especially when you have no more exits."

It was a strange comment. Harris made the dire mistake of hesitating. Why-

"Harris! Behind you!"

The warning drove him to look back. At the corner of his eyes, he made out another person behind him. Another HCF soldier?

No, this time a woman. A stranger. He didn't know the face. Which meant she was in cohorts with Wesker.

No choice but to put aside his good manners.

He fired a fist.

To his amazement, he felt his rolled-up hand be pushed to the side. Then suddenly, the air left his lungs by a punch at the diaphragm.

Broken rib. Not good.

Of course, he was dealing with a professional.

The whole world spun over him, his legs immediately chopped down by a swinging kick. He found himself on his back.

Then came a cracking sound.

It was a moment for the firing pain to register but he soon realised his arm was broken.

"Ah-AAARGH! AAAAARRGH!"

"Harris!"

"Good of you to finally join us, Giannino."

Harris glanced up for a better look at his opponent, partly blocked by the sight of a silencer. Short, richly-dyed auburn hair and with well-put make-up, those devious amber eyes mocked him for being such an easy target. The kind that battered thick eyelashes alluringly only to stick a knife clean through the jugular. Proficient clothes of a hitwoman, sleek and easy to move with little wind-drag and well-patched to hide her tools. The only thing that brought out her inner persona were the expensive boots she wore.

In a humiliating way, her hips lassoed on him tight. A woman who knew how to have fun at work.

"A tough cookie, we have here," A heavy Italian accent smoked from her deep red lips. "Rough around the edges but for a redneck...I admit, he's handsome."

"Harris Cooper. Meet Ivory Giannino. Hired hand."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cooper. Hm, would have been nicer if we had met under better terms."

Harris struggled as much until he could feel the hot barrel draw across his lightly-shaved cheek. He could read the words right out of those seductive eyes. Be a good boy and stay still. Or else he'd eat lead.

"Why are you still hesitating?"

Steve wheeled back to Wesker, the irritating smirk still at him.

"There's no turning back, Burnside. This place is falling apart. By now, the specimens have reached the upper floors. I'm sure you know the result."

Flashes in his head deepened his anxiety. His torment.

It was happening all over again. Just like Rockfort.

In his terrified state, he almost imagined Doc's mangled body across the floor. Or worse...

Steve bit his lips at an old memory. No, no! He didn't want Iria to become that! He didn't want to find her come like _**that**_ for him to shoot her!

_No!_ he barked at himself. _Doc will be alright! There's no way she'll die that easily!_

_But Hannah... Randy..._

Steve could feel himself being torn from inside.

"You have two choices here. Come with me or try to help them. But what have these people done for you?"

_Shut up! Shut up!_

"Everyone inside this facility are afraid of you. I'm pretty sure McLenlan and her people simply dress it up so that it's easier on you," Wesker pointed. "And the islanders outside, what would they do if they knew the real you?"

The one thing Steve was scared: the truth. He hid the truth underneath a disguise of a human. And with everything falling, he knew the likelihood of exposing his other self was very much high.

And that slowly ate more into his fear.

Leaving would be better. No one had to see this ugly side. Not Hannah or Randy. Not anyone.

But would he abandon them out of selfish terror?

Everyone was going to die.

"What do you expect will happen? They'll be happy you _**saved**_ them? They'll see a monster, not a person, Burnside. They see differently than we do. You are far better than them. You are not them. You owe nothing to them."

He hated that Wesker was right. He hated it so much.

But...everyone...

"Come now. Don't you want to see your Claire again?"

And hearing that name finally gave the winning streak.

Yes.

Yes, he wanted to see her.

That was the main reason.

Iria and everyone had been pushing him to that goal.

If he backed down, it would have been all for nothing.

"That's your only reason for taking my offer, Burnside," Wesker murmured.

Fuck him. It wasn't fair. Why was everything spiralling out of control? Out of his hands and _**again**_! ?

"So isn't she a far important person to you than these people? Well then, why don't we see her again, Burnside?"

"Shut up about your damn mind games!"

The strong Texan accent broke through the tension inside Steve's head, his eyes drawing away from Wesker to Harris.

"You don't know hell about him!" Harris growled. "You don't know anyone of us! And you don't know anything about this Claire person! So put all your bull up your ass, you damn snake!"

For once, Steve was calm. All because of a point Harris said.

Wesker had only met Claire once.

He claimed to have met her.

But he didn't know her as well as Steve did.

He was just hanging an invisible carrot in front of his nose just to get him to follow hopelessly.

"This one has a bit of fight left," the assassin hummed. "A lot better than that friend of yours."

The Texan's scowl was dismantled down.

"What?" His voice quivered.

"Oh," she sang. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But your friend was in the way." She shrugged her shoulders at the stunned Texan.

Harris was at a loss for words.

Steve nearly fell back. "K-Kail..."

"It had to be done. Dear should have followed after you instead of sticking her nose further in where it shouldn't belong."

Kailey...was still in the surveillance room.

What had he done?

Harris had left Kailey alone. His partner. His backup just as he was hers.

Rage boiled up inside of him, replacing the pain. "You..."

"Why such a long face? If anything, she left painlessly and quietly."

Right then, Harris wanted vengeance. If he could move again, he'd greatly put a hole in that smug face of hers.

If only he could move.

"We should hurry this on, Giannino. Clock's ticking," Wesker ordered and the huffing sound of the rotor blades coming back to life stretched his smile even wider. "Well, Cooper. This was entertaining while it lasted. But this is goodbye." The man in black turned to Steve. "Shall we get going then?"

Steve stared down at the open hand towards him.

He didn't need to hesitate any longer. He knew his answer well enough.

Fuck his offer.

But there was still a couple of matters to attend to. Saving Harris. Getting them off the dock level before they'd be filled with bullets by the two thugs.

If Doc was here, she'd tell him to find another way.

_Do what you possibly can. Not what you impossibly must._

So Steve did just that.

Time seemed to slow down for him as the monster side of his mind stepped forth. Every sluggish action was registering in his head. The barrel was drawing millimetres closer to Harris's head. Wesker stayed stiff as a tree but the arching demiseconds was slowly tilting his smirk downwards.

He was starting to notice the change of mind. But Steve didn't care.

Brute force it, Harris would say.

The guard was near his left, none the wiser. Swiftly, Steve lunged for the collar. The soldier, despite having the t-virus run through his veins, could barely detect Steve's approach.

Steve flung him easily.

Giannino quickly glanced up to see the flying body at her but a hand wrapped around the gun.

Harris had stopped her from dodging.

It was a full blow. She could feel herself be lifted off her feet, only to feel the ground hit below her hard and the dizzied man still on top of her.

The other soldier was already pointing his gun at Steve. Quickly, the monster side took over - one hand gripped the barrel and outrageously lifted it up before the trigger was pulled.

_Rattle, rattle, rattle_ went the assault as the heated metal burned his skin. But Steve mentally smacked away the pain. This was an opening and with his free hand, he too grabbed the guard by the collar.

This time throwing the HCF thug at Wesker.

Although the inhuman man in black easily dodged the flying man, Steve was already heading to the lift. On the way, Steve hurriedly picked Harris, slinging his good arm over the shoulder.

_BANG! BANG!_

He kept going. Both dove right into the opened lift, flat on the cold tiles. With no time wasting, Steve literally kicked at the buttons and the doors closed, shielding the bullets streaming at them.

Out of all possibilities, the two managed to escape.

How unfortunate, Wesker thought. But they were only sinking into down back to more deadends.

Still, he was disappointed at Burnside's choice. "Should have kept a tighter leash on him."

No. McLenlan would have interfered. And already, the deal was made. If he did anything to anger her, then these recent years would have certainly been different. Slower on the development of the Kronos Virus.

He eventually smiled. It was not a total loss. He'd still have his best fighter come back to him. That redhead would have to learn about cruelty upfront.

In fact, this was for the better.

"Well, then. Let's see how well you fair in this test, Burnside."

The burning of this isolated tropical world was the best training ground for the boy.

* * *

><p>"Shit, are you ok, Harris?"<p>

Of course, he wasn't ok, Steve yelled at himself. He just got his butt whooped by that crazy gunwoman!

What should he do, the question rang many times in his head. Broken arm - um, he needed a sling, right? Sure, there were more problems than the one before him like what terrors they were heading down. Still, what could he use for a sling?

"You..."

It was softened by the heavy painful breathing and the loud alarm. What? Steve neared his head closely for a better hear.

"_**You son of a gun**_! Are you mentally dysfunctional! ?"

It was the loudest he had ever heard from the Texan inside the lift. Caught him by surprise.

Then he was mad.

"Me! ?" Steve yelled. "What are you complaining about! ?"

"You could have gotten shot back there! Doesn't matter if you have superhuman speed or strength! Didn't you think they'd take you down! ?"

Oh! That was it? The Texan should be thankful of him for saving their asses!

"I didn't see you have some backup plan! What were _**you**_ thinking? You went there alone! With a taser!"

_Ding!_

"If anything," Steve continued hollering. "You should be thanking me, Harris!"

The doors opened wide behind his back. He didn't take notice of a risen corpse standing at the entrance, blackened eyes already hawking down at him.

But Harris did.

It was out of sheer gut. Probably. To anyone, what he did would be considered stupid. Yes. Yes, it was.

But he didn't think. He acted.

He jumped forth.

* * *

><p><em>BAM! BAM!<em>

The Aussie officer bit his lower lip. The amount of slugs being eaten up by just one single Hunter was worrying him. All because of that thick scaly hide of theirs.

He reloaded the gun. Highest priority - he and his men needed to keep the monsters at bay until everyone was in the foyer area of Level A.

"Come on!" he yelled, swinging up his arm as more staff drained through the administration floor. "Hurry inside!"

The foyer area would be the ideal place for safety. He and Iria had agreed on this long ago. The place was large enough for over 7,000 people, three skips away out to freedom via the facility's transit system. Its doors into and out of the facility were heavily armoured against all sorts of damages.

No vents, no cover-ups, nothing for specimens to crawl right in except through the foyer doors.

"Sir!" A much younger lightly brown-haired man, also in blues and armoured, came out from the narrow security booth nearby. "I can't get word from Odell or any of the squads.

"Bloody hell," Kent grumbled under his breath. He did expect it. Perhaps a portion of people were still in lower floors, hiding or taking shelter in protected rooms.

Or perhaps dead.

So far he counted: only eight out of over thirty fire squads were defending the foyer. Another ten squads were outside, taking a break from their night shifts. And much to his dismay, he had just gotten word that HCF was firing at them.

So that bloody wanker, Wesker, had finally showed his true colours, huh?

Still, it was too few. That wasn't good. They were being squatted about like flies.

A part of him inside was hoping that the other squads or any remaining officer were still alive below - trying to keep calm and cool in the chaos. There were designated areas for situations like these.

Only problem was GAIAN was still offline. That had never happened in eleven years.

That was all he could do. Just be a little hopeful.

"Our priority is keeping these infected out long enough!" Kent hollered his order over the gunfire. "Don't back down, you hear!"

At once, the young officer, Norman Connor, joined to the ranks of fire and gunpowder.

Down, down went the specimens. The halls were filled with both them and fleeing staff members. Some humans tumbled down to be helplessly ripped apart by the disorienting Hunters. No signs of Erinyes yet and that was uncharacteristically alarming to see.

Only a few people had stepped in to help, against Kent's better judgement. Of course, Iria's team. But he couldn't complain. While they were not skilled military people and didn't carried anything but tasers, they were right now the best method of shepherding everyone while his men took care of the monsters.

"We're running out of bullets!" He heard another officer, Alex Trask, yell from the back.

Kent eyed about. Several more were entering the level through the fire escapes, frantically dancing their way around the monsters. Dammit, they needed more time!

"Out of the way."

Out of the circle, a man of Korean heritage paced out while he pulled out a sheathed blade. Few years younger than Kent but just as experienced as he was.

"Chee!" Norman shouted but was ignored.

In a situation like this, close combat was ideal to persevere bullets. Which however, unless one was physically and mentally trained or was on the same level as those freaks, anyone would be too insane to even consider.

Kwan Chee, however, was both of the two.

An unlucky engineer was quickly pinned down by the heavy claws of a Hunter. He watched helplessly at the rising right hand of the beast on top of him.

Kwan darted, already having drawn out his short curved sword, specially tailored to his needs. Light but just as deadly as those talons of those frog brutes.

And narrowly sliced between the thick armour plates on the side of the specimen's throat.

First glance would be that was damn lucky. Slotting the metal into the narrow gaps where the thin skin bore was nothing of luck.

"Cocky showoff," Kent scorched at his right-hand man. Again, he couldn't be picky. There was no choice but to go melee. Conserve ammo and have a few gunmen keep firing. "Make every shot count! Don't give these wankers any satisfaction!"

He pointed dead central his shotgun at another Hunter.

_Bzzzzzzt!_

Little electrified needles dug into the chest of one Hunter and shocked it into a dance of spazzes before dropping down.

Iria reloaded a new clip and looked cautiously about, until she spotted a running scientist shoved onto the floor.

"Come on!" Grabbing the downed man by the shoulder, she hurriedly lifted him back on his feet.

Then she spotted a Hunter lunging towards them.

Iria pushed the man forth and arched herself back at the same time. The Hunter's talons hit nothing but concrete.

But Iria didn't see the other free claw swinging at her.

She felt the wind knock out of her as she skidded across the bloodied floor.

"Iria!" She heard Zach yell somewhere.

Iria shook off the dizzy moment - no, she could not lose her composure. The Hunter was already leapfrogging towards her.

She raised up her taser gun. She couldn't miss with a running target at her.

However, in her battered fall, she must have miscalculated the time.

The Hunter, unfortunately, was already inches away from her face. Her taser gun was still at a low angle.

So this was it.

_SMACK!_

All of a blurry sudden, the green giant frog disappeared from her sight. Its body internally dissembled apart at contact to the wall before drooping onto the floor.

"Doc."

She glanced up to her saviour, downright amazed.

The kiddo, now in his green scaly form, was in front of her and in the nick of time in rescuing her.

For once, she had never felt so grateful for him to change his mind and stay. For once, she had never been so happy to see this silly redhead kiddo.

She could very much cry.

"Steve, Iria!"

The two peered at the waving Yves from afar. The doors to the foyer were now starting to close.

"Come on!" The Frenchman hollered. "They're shutting the foyer!"

Iria's eyes bugged out, climbing back onto her feet. "Harris and Kailey aren't here yet! Someone contact them again!"

Out of the blues, she felt the large hand grip her feeble one. It was even stranger for Steve to utter, "No!"

"They're still down there!" Iria blurted out. "We have to-"

She stopped. The heat of the battle, the screams and fire seemed to drown out in her ears.

That face... That sorrowful face the kiddo was giving...

He couldn't hide it, no matter how hard he tried. The more he tried, the more it curdled.

The grip eventually grew looser.

"Doc, Harris is..."

He wouldn't continue. He didn't want to continue. But Iria already filled in the gap.

She was partly hopeful but this wasn't her first time. Nothing would come out of hoping for a colleague, a friend to be alive.

And if Harris was gone, then so was Kailey.

Two more names added to the list of deaths... She couldn't believe it.

They were strong, the strongest she knew in her team.

How, she wondered, how were they easily taken down?

"What are you bloody hell gapping around for! ?" Kent screamed at the two from the closing entrance. "Hurry!"

Iria had only realized then that only she and Steve were the few left outside the safe zone. The monsters had dwindled but for sure, more were coming up. She could hear the growls and groans from the stairs already.

"Steve, we have to go."

He didn't budge. All he did was shake his head.

"Steve," she pleaded.

"I can't..." He buried his face in his large hands. Eyes watered. "I...I'm no different than Wesker..."

From the reaction, Iria made an assumption: he did something bad. He made a choice he regretted. But all she got wasn't straightforward enough for her to be correct.

He cast a red gaze at the foyer, at the gathered people.

The outcome was sure to be grim. He was one of the specimens after all.

"Please...leave me, Doc..."

Then she furrowed her eyebrows angrily.

_BAM!_

"Ugh! Hey!" he hissed. "You know that hurts!"

She hit him with the hilt of her taser gun. Again.

But those angry hazel eyes jostled him back as if he, back to his childhood, was being scolded.

"I am not leaving you, you hear me?"

Again, that stubbornness she had. Steve should have expected she would do that.

"If I have to go through this hell again, then so be it. But I am _**not**_ leaving you behind!" She then took the liberty to try and get a 400-pound monster back off weak knees by pushing at his back like something from a cartoon. "Whatever you did, Harris will never forsake you for your choice, understand? You did what was right! And I know Harris as well as you do, Steve. The only thing he'd be pissed off is if you run away from that choice! You owe him for living!"

Steve tightened his fists anguishly, being reminded on the spot of the two favours.

"You _**aren't**_ the only one burdened, Steve Burnside," Iria murmured, ceasing her shoves. "We all make difficult choices."

He stared at her, eye to eye. There were a lot of skeletons in the closet that Iria wouldn't talk. Not just to him but to everyone.

She had the selfish idea that the burdens were hers alone.

Some too personal.

Some too deep and painful.

All he had were pieces here and there from chit-chat by others.

But one look took him she could relate. She had made difficult choices, a woman in her position had uncleaned hands and was ripped apart by her own conscience.

She probably had dropped down like a kid crying over her scraped knees, just as he did. But instead of continuing the sobs, she pushed back up and kept on going. Like a mad bull in Spain.

"So you're not alone on this."

That one sentence was all it took him to get his head back in the game. Yeah, there was no point in regretting what was done.

He has been doing a shitty job lately. Letting himself get so confused at the decisions. How stupid of him.

Harris would have punch him hard, alright.

"You heard the lady."

_SLASH!_

"No one is leaving you."

Stabbed at the right of another frog beast launching in midair, the Korean swordsman managed to tear wider its soft mouth. He shot it further away from the downed duo with a kick to the stomach before turning his attention to them.

"There's no point in having regrets," Kwan muttered to the redhead monster. "Haven't you learned nothing at all from your time here?"

Great, another lecture. But this time, Steve kept quiet.

Because the officer was right.

Kwan turned back to something more pressing - the sneaky Hunters moving closer to them. He held up his sword steadily. Such a uncanny, unrealistic pose out of a skilled swordsman in modern time but who could complain?

"You're alive. And you have to carry that burden for those who died."

Steve slowly agreed. He was alive, breathing, sane in his mind.

Harris and Kailey were gone. The familiar faces, both neutral and foul, were petrified in stiff, dead terror when he rushed on up to Level A.

Now he had to hold the baton tight and get going. For the sake of those gone and those still present.

Also, he had forgotten.

He wasn't the only one with problems. Now wasn't a good time to be acting like some beast from a fairytale.

"Now get off your ass and head to the foyer."

He grunted silently at the Korean man. He didn't need to be told twice.

Steve got back up on his feet. A nod encouraged Iria to move it as well.

As the two darted back towards the protected lobby, Kwan immediately pulled down a fire drill not too far from reach.

At the warning drill, water rained down from above, surprising the stalking Hunters and urging them to look up.

Good, Kwan thought as he paced after the two. Long enough for a distraction before the Hunters gave chase.

The gap in the doors was thinning. There was no way Steve's huge mass could fit through.

So he carefully slipped out an auto-injector from the pocket of his hanging jacket and with a bit of adjustments moving the little needle in his palm, stabbed it into an artery in his right thigh.

The special fast-acting magnesium-based solution ran through his bloodstream with every quickened heartbeat, flushing away the adrenaline throughout his whole body. Calming the beast within down and in his rush, shrinking him down to beige-coloured size.

Steve was used to the pain from transforming and reverting back - they were nothing more than muscles cramps but they were still a bothersome to him.

He had almost toppled down in 'midflight' but thankfully, Iria quickly looped him over her shoulders and together, they hoppled closer to the foyer.

The two slid in, followed by Kwan sheathing back his sword. And the doors closed shut with a loud thud.

* * *

><p>Steve stared, horrified.<p>

At the bleeding, heavily-breathing body of Harris Cooper inside the elevator.

He felt his knees turn jelly beneath him as his mind kept racing, wondering what he could have done if he had known.

But Harris noticed before he did, him with all the monstrous senses. Without warning, the Texan had leapt up and shoved Steve back.

And Steve had laid witness to Harris being chomped down by a zombie.

A zombie. With black-coal eyes.

Why?

Why was there a zombie? The facility didn't even have those locked up below.

That question was quickly hinged down with a more important matter.

Steve pushed the Shade off him and out the lift. It was a quick glance but he was already counting the numbers. Five Shades outside the elevator.

_Fuck!_

He then slammed shut the lift and down they went.

And now in the quiet stiff atmosphere of the elevator, Steve glared ghastly at Harris.

"Why! ?" he hollered. "Why would you do that! ? I would have been fine!"

With one hand holding pressure on the gaping wound of his shoulder, Harris grimly glanced up. He weakly chuckled. "Force of h-habit, really."

"Shit! We got to get you to a doctor!" The redhead wheeled around cluelessly. His hands were shaking. What to do, what to do! ?

He was terrified.

No, no! Stay calm! "The foyer! Everyone's got to be heading up there!" The kiddo galloped up to the buttons and smashed the second button. As much as how boring they were to listen, he still recalled all the necessary procedures taken place inside the facility. For all sorts of emergencies. "Come on."

"Kiddo..."

It was a soft, tired utter.

Harris was feeling the symptoms. The feeling of numbness was spreading from his fingers and onwards. Hard to breath. And he could have sworn his vision was blackening out now and then. One look down at his skin was already showing signs of purple pulsating veins slithering upwards and downwards from the wound. But if anything, Harris would probably die first from blood loss before he'd lose control.

He furrowed his eyes. It was odd. He knew that in his guts. If this was what he thought it was, it was going a lot faster than expected. What was more, there was a Shade. Specimens already running amok and out of their slaughter rose up Kronos-infected walkers.

That was much too fast, especially from a bite wound. There should have been a twelve-hour window, especially with a catalyst.

Unless it was altered...but how...

Didn't matter now, Harris thought. Regardless of what or how, it was all too clear.

"I'm infected with the K virus."

Steve's mouth gapped open. He could feel the goosebumps rise on his skin.

His mind screamed that all this wasn't true. But the signs were there. There wasn't any denying it.

Steve slouched down on his knees, his thoughts going numb. With only the dinging sound above them, the silence lashed about them so tightly.

"Steve... Iria, we never told you this..." Harris tried to force the words out. He had little time with how fast the numbness was going. "The team...we did our own pact... If anyone of us was infected...someone has to end us..."

Coldness shot through the inner cores of Steve.

Was he hearing right?

"Kailey was my partner... And that also means she was the one to deal the final blow... But she's not here."

At that moment, Steve connected the dots. He frightfully shook his head.

"No... No, I can't do that! Harris, there's got to be another way! Iria, Iria can-"

"You know as well as I do, boy... There ain't a cure for this variant..."

Steve grinded his teeth with wide eyes. No, not the finished version...

Again, he was trapped in a suffocating cage with no way out. A dying friend before him pleading him to end his life.

This was a person he knew.

It wasn't just Harris either. He knew his family too. His son, around Hannah's age and his sister outside the facility.

And Harris was asking him to kill him.

To murder a father of another son.

Steve couldn't do it. "I can't do this... How can I-?"

"I didn't want to do it either..."

It took the redhead by surprise but still, he listened at the now feverish man.

"My wife... I told you about her once..."

Yes, yes, he was told. It was a small talk and Harris didn't go any further. About how his wife also worked in the facility as administration.

That was six years ago.

"She was one of the lucky ones during the first outbreak... But she wasn't lucky... I didn't want to kill her..." Harris barely uttered. Light tears swelled at his tears. "So...I'm sorry..."

It was a dreadful memory, now flashing in his mind. Six years ago, she looked fine, having nearly escaped the event by a hair.

But it was all too good to be true.

Two officers and one HCF guard were slaughtered as he watched helplessly the starting of an Erinye transformation out of his beloved wife's own skin. GAIAN was already sending down the drones after her.

She would be captured and logged in as another unlucky specimen for the rest of her life.

Sadly, he pulled the trigger on her at her half-conscious pleads.

Harris glanced up to at the worried red-haired man. Shucks, he was spilling everything out so close to death.

For a split but shady second, he could have sworn he saw a figure standing behind Steve. Just standing motionless, somewhat examining them.

The familiar brown hair tied in a neat ponytail, those lovely plump lips he had caressed with his and that smartly-dressed desk worker attire. Just the way he remembered when she was alive.

"Tessa..."

Then she was gone. Like a ghost.

No. Must be the mind playing tricks because he was dying.

So what? He was surely going to see her again.

"...I'm sorry...to put this burden on you, Steve."

The redhead bit his lips. "No... I've been there too, Harris... I've been there too... My dad..." He then tightened his hands on his knees. "He had already turned before I found him..."

_Ah... _Harris thought. _I see... _Still, it sucked to him that Steve had to relive for a second time.

But as much as he hated that idea, he was thankful that it was Steve than nobody.

His breathing eventually slowed down. His mind was telling him to go to sleep. Which meant death was going to welcome him around the corner, alright.

Harris sighed heavily.

"Hey, kiddo...do me two f-favours?" The Texan smiled as his body flopped further back. "Don't forget me, you hear?"

Steve weakly forced up a squeezed smile. How could he? "...What's the other favour?"

"...Get off this island with everyone," Harris answered. "Alive."

His body then went limp. The hand clutching the wound plopped onto the pool of blood.

Glass eyes glanced at nothing.

"Harris?" Steve fired his hands and clutched Harris by the shoulders. He shook him. "Hey! Harris! Come on! Please...please be some sick joke!"

He continued to shake but the scientist wouldn't stir up.

"Please..."

Praying was pointless.

Steve let go, continued to stare at his fallen friend and then shook his head.

***/*/*/***

_"Kail, you said you found those coloured lens, right?"_

_"Yeah." _

_One year ago. Harris and Kailey would start their job as handlers, keeping a close eye on the 'specimen'. _

_Things had happened before the three boarded the lift to fly to the top floor that Steve knew on the spot the two wouldn't be as merry as Iria was to him. It was his first time meeting them anyway. _

_Then out of the blues, Harris took the first step to break the silence. By taking the liberty to break a pair of shades Wesker had proudly handed to Steve. They were stupid-looking on the redhead._

_Kailey dug out a small little case and handed it to him._

_"Hope you don't mind green. My niece seemed to like that for some strange reason."_

_"N-No..." He wearily accepted the case. "That's my eye colour..."_

_As of right then, his eyes were blood red. A little side-effect of his mutation. Something Wesker seemed to praise out of the redhead. _

_Steve opened the case to see the thin, wet lenses. Huh, this was a new thing._

_There were a lot of new things he was finding out after eight years. New phone devices. New president. New everything._

_"...Never used lens before," he admitted._

_"Well, you're going to have to learn. Not gonna do it for you."_

_"Really?" Kailey grunted at the Texan. "Just pinch one and do this." She mimicked the action of pulling down her eyelid with one hand and the other placing near to the iris._

_It took a while - along with him nearly dropping one len to the floor. Kailey did her best to help as much as she could but he managed to get them in._

_Geez, these things stunk. But after a few blinding, he could no longer feel some annoying thin sheets on his eyeballs._

_He then found the two scientists smiling at him._

_"Yup," Harris chuckled. "That looks better on ya, boy."_

***/*/*/***

Then suddenly, Harris stood back up.

The monster at the far back of his skull was warning him. But Steve froze up on the floor, taking a while longer to gaze up.

"H-Harris?"

Arms dangled down like that of a puppet without strings. Gargling sounds erupted from the mouth inaudibly.

Black eyes stared dead at Steve.

"Fuck..." he whined. "Fuck."

He still didn't want to. Not again. Not a second time.

But he also didn't want to leave him like this.

No one deserved this. No one deserved to be seen as an undead by everyone. To be walking endlessly with no mind of their own.

Harris wasn't going to come back.

The Shade then launched at him, baring teeth on feral instinct.

And Steve, screaming out his lungs, swung his arm - changing and warping into green muscle mass.

One quick sweep.

It was a clean cut at the neck from his own claws. The body and head dropped to the floor, both detached.

And this time, Harris never stood up again.

Steve, a now transforming beast, wept softly over his corpse.

* * *

><p><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**Hunter**

Based: Human, Reptile/Amphibian

Created via: Primary t-viral infection, Gene experimentation

Purpose: Experimental BOW

Hunters are bipedal reptilian-like creatures with large claws and teeth and are noted for their loud shrieks. They are BOWS designed by the Umbrella Corporation by combining fertilized human ovum with reptilian DNA and then implanting the t-Virus into the resulting creature. They are decently skilled predators with armoured backs, although having weaknesses at their head and chest areas. Regardless, they are good at stealth from certain angles and corners.

Currently, they are in the BOW black market. Because of their reputation for being the most successful BOWs created by Umbrella, HELIX bought a number of Hunters as weapon subjects to test against Kronos-infested specimens as well as to introduced the virus onto a few to perfect the Hunter's original design even further.

In **CODE: Kronos**, unlike most of the specimens, Hunters show resistance to the 'sound' or perhaps, do not even hear it without the Kronos Virus. However, that does not mean they won't be drawn into commotions caused by other specimens.

* * *

><p><strong>Kwan Chee<strong>

_White Pawn_

Date of Birth: 1971

Age: 35

Blood Type: O

Gender: M

Race/Nationality: Korean/Korean

Occupation: Security, Lieutenant

Teammate Class: Operative/Recon

Weapons of Choice:

Melee – Korean Sword

Primary – Handgun (Security standard)

Secondary – Assault Rifle

Stats:

Strength: ***

Stamina: ****

Accuracy: ****

Wits: **

Speed: ****

Endurance: ***

Ability:

* * *

><p>Vickie: Heya, all! Another chapter finished! It took a while for some parts and actually, I only managed to finish this cuz I was sick. I am still sick as I write this but yeah. Was sluggish, couldn't speak at all and wanted to do something to break out so here you go, new chapter at my expense. :D<p>

But yeah, MORE CHARACTER INTERACTIONS. And god, I love writing bout Harris. :') You could say he was like a dad to Steve in a way. Even more so was how sad and hard the elevator part went for Steve. But it had to be done.

And yes, I brought back Hunters... I know, they're overused. But can I say there's a K-infected version of this and its bio is really really cool? :D No, aw. D:

Well, it was either Hunters for a cameo or Lickers but Erinyes already are the better version of them.

And we have more new characters too. Especially Kwan. What's his backstory? Well, you're going to have to find out in later chapters of course. And I originally wanted to make him Japanese but that would have been overdone too. And thanks to my mom's obsession on Korean dramas...yeah. We have a Korean swordsman. :P

Also, I believe you all have guessed by now what's this 'better client' Wesker's talking about. Fawking TRICELL. Oh, are we gonna be hearing that a lot in later chapters too. In any case, yeah, there are gonna be a lot of connections here and there, and out of those connections will lead to many consequences I have cooked up.

Anyway, time for me to sleep off my meds so hope you guys enjoy this new chapter. Happy reading and reviewing and I will hopefully get the next chapter up soon. This is around the part where I actually have larger holes in my plot but still, I don't intend to stop just because of this.

It'll take time. Lots of times. So please be patient till then. C:


	9. Chapter Eight: Back into Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Back into Hell<strong>

* * *

><p>THERE WAS A TIRED, SAD LOOK on Iria's face. The news hit her hard. She had heard something similar like it not once or twice but uncountable before so to her, it just seemed like unwanted daily talk.<p>

"Harris..." she managed to speak, taking everything that Steve had told her.

Each of the scientists had their own different responses. Victor was already pacing about irritably and miserably. "Damn that redneck... He should have called us..." Katherine was at brink of tears with Yves comforting her. Jose was biting his lips, shaking his head while Samson loitered to the wall with a hint of weak legs.

Zach was the one who showed the worst; with earphones down around his neck, he buried his face in his hands and squatted down to the floor..

It was there within the foyer did Steve realize someone amiss.

"Where's Terry?" Steve meekly asked.

That stiffed the team in their places, each with different reactions but the same hint of remorse.

The rigid silence worsened his dread.

Iria sighed. "Terry... Terry was attacked by one of the specimens... It was already too late before we could do anything."

His green eyes widened before they squeezed tight. "Shit... But it's Terry...was Terry... I thought nothing could stop him..."

"We all thought that, Steve," Iria hastily said. "We all thought that..."

That didn't make it better for him, despite how very true that sentence was.

He knew Iria well. He knew Victor, Kath, Zach, Samson, Jose, Yves, Terry, Harris and Kailey. The relationships he had with the ten scientists were like...college teachers, if he had to pick. They were all older than him, had their own different tastes - other than Harris' admiration in planes, something Steve could relate - and spoke different conversations a person like himself wouldn't get. And yet, during and outside work hour, he learned more things about them than he would with a blender.

Terry, the big guy, had towered over him when he was in his small human form. Hell, he lifted weights during his free time at the gym. It had taken a while for Terry to open up to the kiddo just like the others but once he did, he was like a happy, charging bear to him. He seized any opportunity to rustle Steve's hair like some jock he forgot from high school. Only nicer. Even, a couple of times having drinks with him and Jose - Steve excluded from alcohol however.

Now Terry was gone.

Everyone was fragile. Breakable.

Then Steve remembered Terry's wife and two daughters.

"I... Someone needs to tell his wife... A-And Harris' and Kail's families too... I mean..." Steve felt jumpy inside of him. Sitting down just seemed like wasted time. "T-They need to know..."

Iria's hands pushed down on his tense shoulders. "I know, Steve. But right now, we have to focus. When we leave, I'll tell them. Ok?"

Eye to eye, he eventually settled down, sitting back. However, he didn't want to leave Iria to take another burden.

But now wasn't a good time to complain.

"...Ok."

Her hands dropped to her lap but Iria could easily read the expression on his face like a book. It had been a hard, wearing hour he had to endure. Alone. And for the second time too.

"What's that specimen doing here?"

Iria furrowed her eyebrows, glaring over Steve's shoulders, straight at the beholder of the voice that stood far away.

One of several people who were more 'irked' to be in the same room as a 'monster', had to be very vocal on a day of chaos.

"That _**thing**_ should be out there! You want us to get infected! ?"

"Calm down," Samson said but the scientist didn't listen.

"Get that specimen off of here! We have enough problems already."

"Ok. Back off," Jose barked, standing in between the redhead and the charging man in white. "You're giving us problems already by losing your head."

"Me? You all have lost your heads, especially McLenlan there! Giving that thing a free pass and now this! If you don't take it out of here-"

"Any trouble?"

The raised voices soon drew the attention of Kent, who with his shotgun still in hands was gathering info from his men before he decided to step in.

"Yes, there is!" the other man barked. "This is a protected area and that specimen shouldn't be in here!"

Kent was calm. Cool-headed. But also worn-out.

"O'lright. You might as well say that to Officer Chee as well then."

"What! ?" It was a shrivelled excuse of a voice. "That man's different. And he doesn't have anything to do with-"

"I have other matters to worry about than this, _**wanker**_. If you want, you can bring him to the doors. Pretty sure them reptiles are still waiting out there."

The man froze on the spot. In front of the Aussie, the shivers underneath that smug white coat was visible to the naked eye. The scientist looked about only to catch glares from Iria and the others all hawking at him.

Iria's was the coldest among them.

"Good. Now shut up and go back to your corner."

The grunted sentence out of Kent's curdled lips quickly hurried the man off the balls of his feet. Back into probably his little group of colleagues.

"Ignore him, Steve," Iria said quietly.

He didn't eye back at her but instead kept staring down at the thin lines of the floor with every fibre tightened. It stung like barbed wire had strung around his guts and every word spat out just pulled at the wire tighter and tighter.

He still couldn't get used to the insults, even if this was something of a regular basis by now.

"How bad is it?" Iria dared to ask.

It was difficult for the Aussie to keep a straight face. "No go. GAIAN's still offline. The techs are doing everything from up here but it's looking like the damage could be at the core. Doesn't matter if we go fix it with all them bloody infected downstairs."

She bit her lips. "And the exit doors? Can they be closed?"

Kent shook his head. "You know as well as I do. Without GAIAN, those doors are just invitations for the specimens to get out. Won't be long till that happes."

"Wait," Steve croaked, standing up from his seat. "You're telling me they can get out to the island?"

"No. Not really," Iria replied serenely. "You know you are registered into GAIAN's database, right?"

"Um. Yeah?"

"So are all those specimens," Jose stepped in. "There's a failsafe microchip we put in the back of their necks. They can't get out without feeling shocked internally from a couple of metres to the exit. It's just a temporary solution in case of blackouts like this."

"Until backup power drops to zero," Kent dampened the mood. "Once this facility goes black, there's nothing stopping them from leaving."

Steve swallowed. "How long?"

"My guess. Two hours. Give or take."

"Fuck." The redhead sunk his head down. It just got better and better...

"We got two hours. Will that be enough time for us to do Plan E?"

"Plan E already went out the window. Along with F and G," Kent replied.

That soured Jose's face. "No way. We're down to last resort?"

"Looks that way. Either we get help from outside in the next twenty-four hours or we die fighting the infected. We're struck here until we're dinner for them."

"What did you just say?"

Unknowingly, one of the other staff, a janitor, had just wandered up too close to the group and overheard the commotion.

And stupidly outright spoke out.

"We're going to die here?"

It was like stirring up a pack of frightened small fishes.

"Did you hear that?"

"This is a joke, right?"

"Bloody hell," Kent groaned. Panic was the last thing he needed. "Now calm down-"

But it was already too late. It was contagious, lashing at each of them.

"What are we going to do?"

"We need to call HELIX. They have procedures for this kind of thing!"

"Anyone can get them on the line?"

"What about GAIAN? Isn't she back online?"

"I didn't sign up for this! This is HELIX's problem now."

It was like a sea, the fright rushing into each person like crashing waves while Steve and everyone else who remained calm stayed back like land. He couldn't blame them for being scared.

It was the end for them anyway. Lost and confused, needing someone to help clean up this mess. Anyone.

Someone to come save them.

"**ENOUGH!**"

Out of the half-Spanish's mouth, the yell silenced the whole room to the point that a dropped nail could be heard. Everyone and especially Steve, froze in their places, frightened eyes darted at Iria.

She was hopping mad. In a room full of headless chickens.

"HELIX this, HELIX that! Enough! They are not going to solve anything! It's _**we**_ who have to fix this!"

"Are you daft? HELIX should be stopping this disaster! "

"And where is HELIX right now?" Iria hollered, shutting the other scientist down. "Look around you! Have you noticed all of Wesker's men aren't in today? It's there in plain sight! We have been abandoned by the very company who hired us!"

Almost everyone looked around, even Steve. He had only just noticed it and the very absence spoke volume to them.

Not a single HCF guard was within the foyer. Not one soldier had clocked in for the day.

He tightened his fists. Wesker was really going to leave everyone behind. The sick bastard...

"B-But they have to," another scientist whined. "They can't just leave us-"

"They can and they did. You've all living in ignorance for too long, it's rotted your brains! The virus is complete and we are all expendables. HELIX is not going to be saving us because we know too much and we've been left here to die."

The truth slowly settled. Before the angry blonde, they were swallowing it up like a spoonful of disgusting medicine.

No matter how much they tried to deny it, the taste was down in the pits of their stomachs.

One finally spoke out.

"W-What...what should we do?"

It was a question that stirred everyone to gaze at Iria, their eyes prying for an answer. She didn't budge or flinch.

"What we can do." Iria then searched for one person in the crowd. "Some of us need to stay. And the rest need to leave."

"B-But...this outbreak..."

"There's no point in everyone staying. Right now, you have to go back to your families. You cannot lose your head right now," Iria explained. "I am not asking all of you to be heroes. I'm asking you to _survive_."

She then walked up to a Korean woman with glasses.

"And someone's gonna lead you all outside this facility in my place."

The woman glared at her with shock. "What are you-"

"Yu, I need you to be a leader right now."

It was a strange request, asking out of Soo-Jin Yu, a stuck-up woman with skills on the same plane as Iria. There had been several conflicts that Steve had either heard or seen, and even before he woke up from his coma. So it was odd for Iria to approach her.

"And what makes you think I'll listen to you, McLenlan? You're too quick into thinking that HELIX have abandoned us. The head director already losing her cool in a second outbreak," she spat but the insult barely dented at Iria. "We've been through this before. We just need to wait for them-"

"We have only two hours. Two hours until this hits the fan and gets into town. Do you absolutely think HELIX will be able to do anything in that timeframe?"

Soo-Jin didn't reply. But she was obviously worried, the shrewd smile sinking downwards.

"They'll simply write this off as a damn accident, with everyone dead," Iria snapped with a growing tone of urgency.

The rival facade Soo-Jin had towards Iria deflated, no mockery at her paranoia taken hold. The matter was right in their faces and she couldn't refute it any longer.

"We have never met eye to eye. For nine years, we've pretty much headbutted each other constantly. We have hated each other's guts for a long time. But right now, we can't wait for them to move their asses into saving us. You _**know**_ that we need to do something. We have to save ourselves," Iria explained.

The words slowly sunk into Soo-Jin, her expression softening with a rare hint of fear. Politics and ranks were out of the window. They were defenceless, nothing but prey for the infected at anytime.

She was going to lose it if Iria hadn't continue.

"I know your family is important. So is mine. So is everyone. That's why I need you to lead everyone to the pier. Can you do that?"

"And you expect us to leave on the ferry? That's not going to hold everyone. And the storm-"

"I know. We're stuck here until we can call for help. For now, the pier is our own place of defence. In case things get worse. That's why I need you to take the lead out there, prepare that place like you're ready for war. Rations, weapons, anything important for survival. Just long enough until help comes."

Soo-Jin narrowed her eyes confusedly. "...What exactly are you planning?"

"Use the two hour window to shut the doors and send an SOS. Even with GAIAN down, communication should still work."

It was a wild idea. Soo-Jin's wide eyes were the tall tale. Was she crazy? That would be like entering a room full of hornets.

"This is the only option we have. And if there's another you know, then tell me. I'm all ears."

It was a plead that Soo-Jin had never heard. Iria asking of her for another solution. Moreover, for her to go into lengths into finally listening. But even so, she had nothing better than what she proposed.

There was no other choice.

The fear in her black eyes then settled down, followed by a sigh out of her lips. Soo-Jin glanced at Iria, not out of spite or disbelief.

Then she glared with mild annoyance, the familiar smug mask she usually cast out at her.

"Alright. I'll do this. But I'm not doing this for you. Clearly, you have one too many on your plate to handle and I'm not going to be responsible if I hear the head director gets herself killed. Understand, McLenlan?"

Iria softly smiled.

"I wouldn't think any other way."

The Korean then turned her attention to the surrounding crowd. "What are you gagging about? You heard her! We're heading back to town and moving everyone to the pier."

"Are you crazy?" the one scientist that spat about Steve the specimen being in the foyer was shouting at her. "We should wait for HELIX!"

"If you want to wait here, then fine. Be a meal for the infected. You give the rest of us a better chance of leaving," Soo-Jin coldly hissed. "The less hindrances, the better."

It was a frightful comeback, along with her icy glare. She had been terrified after her experience out from that den, tired that no solution came into light until Iria stepped in with the proposal and purely angry at the fact they had a large-scale pandemic on their hands.

She was _**not**_ going to let some spineless coward with an IQ 15 points lower than hers stand in her way.

"Move it! Now!"

It was a slow stir but eventually, people were leaving through the main entrance. Calmer this time, with the survived officers funnelling them out. And no one seemed to object with the Korean woman taking the lead. At least, no one was brave enough to do so.

"Be careful, Yu," Kent uttered. "We've gotten word from other units outside that HCF are up to something. Armed."

"They're still around?" Soo-Jin exclaimed with a tint of disbelief.

"On the island, yeah. And a bit too close to town for comfort. Have a feeling Wesker left some of his men on purpose. So prepare yourself on the way back."

"Hmph. So he finally shows his true colours. I never liked that man."

"Who doesn't?" Iria added.

"Unit 3, 8, 11 and 19 will tag with all of you. We're running thin here but four units should be enough."

"Thank you, Officer Williams."

With that, Iria and Kent turned away from her. The discussion was finished so now was to put everything in motion.

"McLenlan."

Iria stopped and wheeled back to the Korean.

"You said our families are important. But you might die if you go down there. So why are you doing this?"

It surprised Soo-Jin to see Iria weakly smile.

"I don't have a good relationship with my niece and nephew... Not like you with yours... I guess this is my way of being an aunt for once."

Soo-Jin said nothing, even when the two walked onwards but the silence told her that she acknowledged.

"You sure it's a good idea? She might let it go up to her head," Kent uttered.

"No," Iria replied confidently. "We all have the same goals now. I wouldn't have picked her if I didn't think she couldn't do this."

"So the plan's locking up the doors?"

She nodded. "I am not letting this virus go anywhere near Hannah and Randy." Her voice was firm. Angry.

"You do know what you plan is a suicide mission, right?"

Iria didn't respond. The Aussie could already tell, however, what she was thinking.

And she walked away from the security officer.

Kent groaned. Tilting up his head. "Of course. And you are deciding to do it yourself."

"Doc," Steve muttered weakly, absolutely shocked at the boldness she was taking.

"Iria," Katherine voiced out with frailness but it barely stopped the blonde in her tracks.

Kent immediately wheeled in front of her, an opened palm out to halt her. "Listen to me, Shelia. There are eight exits. Four on B and four below that. Two hours isn't going to cut it for just one person."

"I can most certainly try."

"No. You can't. Each door is a ton of weight. Hear me? A _**ton**_."

"I've managed to blow open a door once. I can figure out something."

"No," Kent grumbled. The Aussie put his foot down. "No more 'I'. This time, you're not doing this one-woman plan, Iria."

Stunned eyes stared at him.

"Teams. We're doing this as teams."

Iria furrowed her eyebrows worriedly. "Kent, you should go home to your wife and kids."

"To spend the last two hours with them on this island? That's a nice offer but I bloody well want to have a fighting chance. Not just for myself but for them too. And I bet you my men are going to stubbornly agree too. So we're coming with you whether you like it or not."

"I'm coming, too!"

Iria shot her head to the right, worried eyes on the kiddo.

It was something she didn't expect or even want to hear out of Steve. But he rushed up onto his feet with a determined look.

She then glowered at him.

"No," she barked. "You're going back to the surface."

Then Steve glanced at her like she had gone mad as a hatter. Again. Stop treating him like a child, dammit! "Are you kidding me! ? Like hell am I leaving you to go waltzing down there!"

And now she was putting on her overprotective guardian mode. "And like hell am I going to let you come! It's too dangerous."

"So? Have you forgotten? I've been through Rockfort! This is just the same. And I'm not exactly human anymore."

"This isn't a game and this isn't Rockfort. You died once. There's no guarantee-"

"Doc!" he yelled, his frustrated manner silencing her. "I know that. I could die again. I could as well die from old age. I get it. But I'm not leaving."

Stiff tension hung between the two, glares still standing.

But Iria gave up, sighing with her shoulders slugged down. There was no talking out of the young man.

Not that she could blame him. Earlier, she had said she wouldn't leave him.

Damn, it was like fighting a reflection. One she couldn't hate.

"Well. If the kiddo's heading in, so will I."

It surprised Iria, as well as deepened her worry once Victor stepped forth.

"Not you too."

"What? You want me to worry my head off outside if anything goes horribly wrong? Forget it. I'm going."

"Now this is where I would be saying I can't allow civilians or staff to do that," Kent said calmly. "But something tells me you're going to ignore me."

Truthfully, as much as he hated the idea of endangering lives, it was good enough an idea to get more hands on deck. Yes, besides his unit, he could have added one more into this suicide mission. The only problem was leaving two others to defend the foyer doors. Too high a risk if the specimens decided to bulldoze through weak defence.

Beggars couldn't be choosers. And Victor had the same intention of choosing to go with them as he did.

Iria scowled at Kent's failed attempt to make the man reconsider. "What about Anna? And your son?"

"And they're just more reason for me to do this. Face it, Iria. I don't want this anywhere near town as much as you don't. You're not going to change my mind."

"I want in, too."

Again, surprise out of the blonde. "Kath..."

"No," the petite scientist hissed, climbing onto her feet with an angry face. "I am not sitting this one out... Yes, I am scared. I'm _**terrified**_. We could all die right now like Harris and Kail. But I can't leave. If there's anything that I can do to just...contain this outbreak, then I'll stay."

Joining in one by one, the others stepped in. Samson and Zach hesitated at first but they ignored Iria's anxious expression.

"We're a team, Iria," Jose pointed. "We're not going anywhere."

"I made this team for the dayshift. Not for guerrilla tactics. You are not trained professionals," Iria snapped.

"And you aren't either. But we sure know how to deal with those specimens just as well as you do," Yves stated.

"Iria, we have the same feeling as you do," Victor said. "We created this virus. We caused this to happen. And we want to fix it."

Iria glanced at her team, one after the other. Every one of them had the same expression that told her no matter what, even if she were to order them to decline, they would not back down.

She couldn't comprehend the lunacy they had in deciding to take part in a suicide mission. They were not superheroes. They have people outside waiting for them.

"Give us this chance. Harris, Terry and Kailey would have wanted this too."

Victor was right. If those three were here, they'd stubbornly jump right in. Telling Iria to stop worry about too many possibilities she's piled up one after the other in her head. They would say to her those were just thoughts, not proven action.

"Numbers are looking good," Samson uttered. "We might have enough for each door."

Iria stared down with uncertainty. It was true: spread out into teams and the doors could be manually locked before the deadline was up.

But...

"You can't do this alone and you won't be alone this time," Kent added.

She eventually sighed. They could die now. They could die later. An hour. Five hours.

She could have died back in the past. So what difference did it make?

"Then we better gear up," Iria uttered. And that stretched Kent's grin even wider.

"Someone say gear?"

Out from the thinning crowd, a woman stood out like a sore thumb. In character and even attire, the dark-skinned woman from Cuba appeared in a wild, flamboyant set of clothes that said to the policies inside the facility to go fuck off. She had been flagged a few things, mainly for her choice of clothing, taking the cheery inside job of handling inventory at the only store on Level A.

Today, Amelita Ramos took the pandemonium as opportunity. Business was still business.

She logged the strap of a large silver case off her shoulder and let it hit the floor with a loud thud, the vey contents shuffling inside.

"Good thing I brought all the stock I could carry."

The Cuban merchant had amazed the group many times before and this time, she had done it again.

Already sitting down on crossed legs, she flipped the fasteners off and opened the case up - showcasing weapons, magazines and grenades galore for happy-triggers. But not without an outrageous price no doubt.

"Everything and anything you need," she hummed. "Just name what you're interested and you get it, provided that you got the dough for it."

"Of course. Why am I not surprised?" Jose uttered with a rise of an eyebrow.

"Stop complaining. If it wasn't for her, we'd be low on ammo already," the Aussie exclaimed.

"And how much did you guys had to cough up?"

"You got to be kidding me."

Steve stared dumbfounded. They shouldn't be there. But the moment he grasped them in his hands, the re-polished gold metal was very much real. Scratches here and there but they were as good as they were when he first held them long ago.

"How the fuck..."

"Seems like you had a history with that pair," Amelita droned, amused at his choice on the old golden lugers. "Found them in storage."

"In storage? How...what?"

"If I had to guess, whatever stuff they managed to savage along with your body from Rockfort. Also, you're not allowed to be selling anything from storage, Ramos," said Victor. There was a soft "You didn't" moment running from his tone.

Amelita simply shrugged her shoulders."And pass by a good offer? That sounds like a sin to me." She turned back to the stunned redhead. "So are you buying or not?"

With a fleeting look on the tided line of goods, Iria examined each item carefully. Some were promising but had disadvantages. Too heavy, too small a chamber, too complicated. A weapon right now was wise for them to carry but it couldn't be too ridiculous that could end up hindering them until death knocked on their doors.

There were two traits she was looking for: a gun that she could easily use and as long as she could kill an infected with it.

One gun caught her attention, black. A Shadow.

She picked it up. Although a similar grasp like that on her trusty taser gun, this one was heavy in her hand. However, it had actually been a long time since she held something like this.

Well, let's just see how rusty she had gotten over the years.

"I'll take this." She tossed out all the money she had in her wallet. There was no need of keeping worthless paper anymore.

"Glad to do business," Amelita spoke with delight, her fingers already running through and counting each note.

"Steve," Iria started, loading a fresh cartridge into the handgun. "Remember you told me once that guns are more reliable than people?"

"Yeah?"

"I like that even more."

_Click!_

_***/*/*/***_

The foyer doors droned out a low screeching moan as they slowly opened. One eye peered out cautiously.

The administration hall was empty - although in bloodstained tatters with lying bodies about, the Hunters were nowhere in sight. But the fact that it was empty was more disturbing. No surprise attacks, nothing to stir confusion with claws and teeth. Meaning the infected were somewhere else, prowling.

Only the sound of dripping water from the fire sprinklers echoed.

"All clear."

The gap widened and out first was Kent, shotgun held up. Behind him, a few of his men stepped out with readied weapons, then the scientists and Steve and finally the rest of his unit.

"Anyone with second thoughts?"

This was the last chance for someone to back out and Kent was handing out the offer without consequence. It wouldn't piss him if one or two did decide to call quits. Live one more day with their families and friends.

But was one more day really good enough?

No one replied, despite a few shivers here and there.

"Close it."

At Kent's order, the doors behind them wedged tight by two officers from one of the remaining three units in the foyer. And the large group of people were cut off from the outside, from any other help.

Eight armed and trained officers, seven scientists and one specimen.

All with a death wish.

"Plan is simple. Team Alfa and Bravo to Level C. Charlie and Delta to B."

No arguments at the picks. At the Captain's order, his seven men split up together with Iria's team. Balanced with weapon expertise, medical skills and understanding of specimen tactics.

Steve had already decided to tag along with Iria. Kent was along for the ride too, choosing Norman the rookie as their fourth member in Alfa. Victor and Katherine were paired together with two officers for Bravo, Decker and Sullivan. Kwan took lead on Charlie, tagged with a female officer named Piper, Jose and Zach. The last one consisted of Yves and Samson with Officer Church and Alex.

There were actually two more officers, by the names of Fuller and Jacobs. But they had already been off-duty before the outbreak.

"Get to the exits and shut them off. No leaving the group for heroics. If you see survivors, tell them to head to the foyer." Throughout his orders, Kent kept a cool head. He didn't falter, he didn't mess up his words. This was, to him, just another routine like any other, despite the large scale of things. "We rendezvous at the safe point in one hour. Any questions?"

None.

"Good, move out."

And with that, the four teams split - two heading one direction and two heading the opposite.

"Steve."

He wheeled back to the petite scientist.

"Keep a close eye on Iria," she said worriedly.

He rose an eyebrow. "I don't think she needs a babysitter, Kath."

"I'm talking about her mental health. This isn't the first time she's been through this."

The serious expression out of her made him reconsider. He glanced back at Iria, noting her calm air within disordered walls as the two teams continued carefully down the wrecked and bloody path.

He had heard about the first outbreak from Harris and Kailey. He had only gotten the brief of it and nothing more. He hadn't asked more out of curiosity but it was a topic her colleagues didn't speak of around her. Even she remained quiet about it.

But from what he gathered from Katherine's concern, it had to have scarred her.

"You really think she'll lose it?" he asked meekly.

"No. But she's going to be affected badly."

"Aren't we all?"

It was a good question that she couldn't deny. One minute, Katherine was leaving early from home to set up the party after saying goodbye to her father. The next, she was volunteering to get herself killed. All with shaking hands.

Yes, immediately, she thought she was losing her mind. She'd probably come out of it with nightmares if she was lucky.

That was the thing: someone else had been through this before, muttering in their sleep, waking up in a cold sweat. And she had seen that from Iria in her office a few times.

But Iria would say a reassuring answer to her question, "Are you alright?", all with a smile.

"You've been through this before. How affected are you?"

Steve didn't answer straight away.

"...Badly... Worse than before," he admitted.

But he understood where she was going with this. If he was having a hard time dealing with this as compared to before, who was to say that Iria was frolicking through this like no big deal?

Especially when the bodies were counting... And this wasn't an attempt to escape, this was an attempt to save lives.

"Just make sure she doesn't do anything drastic, Ok?"

"...Sure." He looked back again.

It had always been Iria looking out for him. Not that he wouldn't do the same for her the other way around. The roles were easily switched every time he found her overworked in her office.

So it was very worrying to him that this time, the other way had to be higher priority no matter what.

"What?"

He flinched at Iria's voice. "Uh, nothing. Nothing."

A frown simply shot out from her. Uh oh. And those narrowed hazel eyes didn't make it better.

Then he was slapped on the head.

"Hey!"

"Get your head in the game. You chose to go back into this hell so you better focus."

"I know that," he whined. "Sheez."

"...I'll be fine," Iria reassured him. "Like Kent said, I'm not doing this alone... Although I'd prefer doing alone. Lessen the chance we'd get attacked as a group."

"Isn't it the same either way? I was alone in Rockfort most of the time and I barely got out of there by a hair if it weren't for Claire."

"Yeah, I guess you make a good point."

"We split up here."

The large group stopped at Kent's command and swiftly divided down into their assigned teams, one going on and the other taking the first emergency staircase.

Carefully and slowly.

Central and emergency elevators were a no go. They were nothing but death traps for sure. Only solution to head down was through the emergency staircases.

Again, those were also a quick trip into dying but at least there were openings instead of being trapped in one single small room.

"Bloody hell."

Already, the turmoil and terror had wrecked the facility from the inside. The next flight of metal steps had somehow been pulled and dismantled from the wall by something of incredible strength, in probably just one tug. If he had to guess, one of the specimens was clever enough to prevent any staff from running up to the administration level - the obvious sign of dripping and splattered blood on the other side of the hole.

No bodies. Good or bad thing? No idea, he told himself.

"Holy...what do you suppose did that?" Norman unintentionally gasped.

"I have an idea what. And I don't want to meet it," Iria replied.

"Agreed," Kent added. "We can take the next staircase near storage."

With the changes in plans, Norman quietly hurried to the door of Level B, one hand gently on the handle. Once a nod was given, he hurled it open and Kent jolted out into the hall, the barrel of the shotgun out front.

It came as a surprise to Steve at how drastic the change was to him as they walked deeper into Level B. People were walking down these white passages under the sea this morning. Now, it was a near replicate of Rockfort.

"How many mags do you have left, Steve?"

Before he answered back to Iria, he dug into his pockets and counted the auto-injectors he had. "Five."

Nearly a full stock. But that didn't mean he wouldn't finish them slowly. "We should be able to find more anywhere. Gauge your intakes if you can until we do."

"Wouldn't it be better if I go beast-mode all the time?"

"In the open, sure. By all means, go right ahead. But in narrow spaces?"

He mildly frowned at Kent's comment but it was a fair point. Parts of the structures were just too small for his other self to worm through. Even doors were another matter unless they were three feet higher.

"Um, yeah. Right."

"All I'm saying is know your limits and when. You're still having trouble controlling those outbursts, right? It can get us out of a sticky situation but it won't do you good if we can't get you out of one."

Outbursts. That was what everyone called his spontaneous changes. Not that Steve literally threw a tantrum. From what anyone understood, the reason behind his transformation was because of his fight-or-flight response, his emotions getting out of control, his heart rate whooshing too fast. He could convert back to human when calming himself but the progress backwards took a much longer time than when he turned monster.

As long as he didn't lose his temper or let his emotions get the better of himself, Steve would be able to walk around with a human guise.

"Didn't mean to make it sound like that, mate."

He shook his head. Actually, what the Aussie said to him didn't really sting as badly as other 'compliments' he had been through. Yes, he hated his other self but in their situation right there, he couldn't help but be grateful to have a trump card up his sleeve. "No. I get it. Better that I can be of some help both ways."

"Huh."

A soft painful utter crept out of Iria, her eyes on the entrance of the cafeteria. This probed Steve to join in to the dark sight.

"Kind of funny," she admitted. "We were just throwing you a party before all this happened."

It was a mess. But then again, she and her team were in a panic at the escaped Erinye. The streamers still littered the floor, now soaked in blood.

Terry's blood.

Steve's eyes tracked along the blood trail until he spotted the body lying motionlessly near the tables. The wound on Terry's neck was large, gaping - a couple more inches and the head would have been severed off - and covered in napkins.

So they had tried to save him. But in vain.

A sigh escaped heavily out of Iria and she turned to him. "Sorry this day didn't turn out the way you wanted it to be."

He said nothing. He didn't know what to say, gazing at her sadly. There was nothing that he had wanted this day to go.

"Sorry to break this moment," Kent said steadily from outside. "But we got to go."

Iria walked out, but not without one more look back at the scene. Steve stayed for a few more seconds, unable to tear away from the dead body.

Three now. He had lost three friends in one day.

He heaved in a deep breath and mustered out his determination. No more.

"Bye, Terry."

And he left the dark cafeteria.

_***/*/*/***_

_Beep!_

"Of course," Kent grumbled at the fail attempt with his keycard.

Alfa had their fair run in with a few Hunters as they made their way to storage in order to cut through. And what luck they had in finding it locked. Even with Iria's now worthless keycard - a head director's at that - had the same result on the offline ID reader.

"No GAIAN, no access. Guess we'll have to find another way."

Another fifteen minutes to waste in finding a second path. Iria didn't like that at all.

"Couldn't we, um," Norman sentence trailed off with delay as he glanced at the redhead.

"Oh, sure. Have me bust open the door because I'm the freak here."

"I didn't mean it like that."

Too much noise, Iria thought.

"Hand me your knife, Kent."

An opened palm from the scientist stretched out to him. At first, he glanced at her suspiciously but quietly handed it over. He didn't need to ask. She had already figured out a plan on the spot.

Iria slipped the blade behind the ID device and with a good jab, tore the machine off. Wires exposed out and her fingers hurriedly twinkled at them.

"Doc, what are you-" Steve stopped himself, seeing the deep concentration she had as she carefully fiddled with the insides, the knife cutting at plastic and copper.

_Ding!_

A loud clunk erupted as the storage door slid off its lock, just showing a gap.

"Way to go, Doc!"

"You pick a few skills here and there," she lightly boosted, handing back the knife to Kent.

The Aussie slipped his fingers around the gap, browsing back to the team. Their silence said they were ready and he hauled open the door.

The large storage section was dusty, stuffy and of course, stink of death. Indications of struggle were about the area from the fallen large and small boxes and the machinery left behind - workers dropping everything in their hands when the emergency struck.

Some were unfortunate. A few pools of blood and bits of flesh told the story.

There was one thing that tensed up the officers as the team entered. It was dead silent.

No sign of anything moving within the maze.

"Awfully quiet here," Norman muttered.

Very true. And Kent didn't like it one bit.

"You sure you saw walkers?" Kent asked.

"Definitely. I think it was Level D or E," Steve answered.

"Great. More trouble to come."

"What were the symptoms?" Iria asked.

"Black eyes. Purple veins. Definitely the K-Virus," Steve replied without hesitation.

And the answer brought more concern out of Iria.

"It can't be."

"Doc, I saw what I saw. And Harris said he was infected with it too."

"But that's too fast an infection. This outbreak only happened in just an hour or two."

"Maybe they were bitten by one of the specimens," Kent proposed. "It has happened before."

"Maybe..." It was half an agreement. Already, she was ramming at her brain for ideas. She knew the virus and even its variants inside and out, as much as she disliked it.

She laid out the mental cards quickly. The virus was not airborne or waterborne but there were means to spreading it, similar to the t-virus and other concoctions they had below. Moreover, there was the need of a catalyst or else a host with the K-Virus would be walking around fine and dandy - so to speak.

What was more was the time needed for a host to be infected with the Kronos virus in the first place...

"We better be careful. There could be other viruses out in the open acting as its catalysts."

"More bad news," Kent grunted. "Terrific idea to keep all of the worst viruses in one place."

"Hang on. I'm also infected. Can you get...more infected?" Steve dared to ask.

"If that happens, then please don't pass it on to us."

"Miss McLenlan?"

The two men wheeled back at Norman's call. Iria had stopped - a very bad thing to do. But she stood still, deep in thought and irritating puzzlement.

Something was nibbling at her deeply.

"Is it really transfer by specimens?"

"Doc?"

"Infected employees in just a short amount of time. And with catalysts speeding up the process. It's too fast for a disaster situation. Even with GAIAN offline, there's no way for the viruses to be released accidentally..." A grim thought crept forth in her head, one she feared. "What if the viruses were intentionally released from the labs before the outbreak?"

The dread from her question stuck to each of everyone inside the quiet storage room. It was an idea that nobody rejected.

Again, she ran her thoughts again. She went down the list of names. Wesker was her likely suspect - that bastard of a rat surely including that into his plans.

No, she then thought. That would be the first thing to pick. Wesker wasn't the kind to dirty his hands or even waste the viruses for pointless sport. If anything, he'd be buffing that he had anything to do with this...

"Only those with access to the labs could do that."

"So it's an inside job," Norman conducted.

"Or Wesker did it," Steve grunted with a fold of his arms.

She bit her lips. The idea of an employee having done this displeased her. That there was someone with intention to set loose the viruses.

"...There's no point in figuring out the answers now. We can get them after we've contained this outbreak."

"Yeah." She had to agree with the Aussie. There were too many variables to think of without any concrete evidence. "Sorry."

"We want answers. Just not right now, Shelia."

_Tink! Clunk!_

It was soft. Faint. Somewhere behind them.

Steve cautiously twirled back, lugers in the air. But no one, nothing was there.

It was far, the other side told him. But it was there.

"Steve?"

"Shh!"

Everyone went on standby, grips on guns tightened. For the three humans, the silence was deadly suffocating to their ears.

Even to the red-haired specimen, he couldn't hear anything other than that little clanking noise. Why? Everything makes noises. So why couldn't he hear it?

Then a thud from in front shook them to spin.

A box, fallen from a shelf.

Something was swiftly moving about.

Swimming inside the storage like a shark circling its prey.

"Any sign of it?" Kent whispered softly.

Steve tried to search for the source. If a tyrant, he would easily detect anything giving heat, visible sound waves, anything. But the boxes around him blocked his somewhat average supervision.

So whatever it was, it was using the storage as its sea like camouflage.

"No. Bastard's smart and I hate that."

"We'll be cornered if we stay. Move. Quietly."

No one objected, continuing down the narrow lanes.

However, one was slowly falling back without the others noticing.

His head pounded lightly. The headache had been there since this morning. And only recently did he hear a slight humming in his ears.

No, Norman told himself. Stay focus.

Again, the pain struck and he squirmed his eyes, lowering his weapon. For a split second, his surroundings had warped and twisted around him like the swirling rainbow colours of a bubble.

When he opened his eyes, his vision returned to normal. His team had already walked down to the right and as he glanced to the left...

His heart felt like it stopped. He almost lost his breath at the sight down the left path.

Again, he rubbed his eyes, this time out of irritation. No. That couldn't be true. It was just an illusion the moment he'd open his eyes again. Yes, just an illusion.

He looked back and was overcome with the need to cry.

All sense of logic was telling him there was no way she could be there. She _**shouldn't**_ be there. But he didn't care. At the other end of the lane, the apple of his eye stood there as real as everything around him.

He had lost her once and moved on. Now she was there.

It was then that Kent peered back over his shoulder and spotted his comrade far from the group.

"Connor, move it!" he hissed softly.

The young officer didn't listen. Instead, he wandered further away as if in a hypnotic daze.

"Joanne."

"What?"

Norman wheeled back to the team with large hopeful eyes. "Captain, I just saw her! Joanne! She's there." Before the confused Aussie could utter back at him, he was already running down the other way. "Hang on, Joanne!"

"There's a survivor here?" Steve uttered.

"We better find her quickly-" Iria stopped at hearing a soft "Impossible..." gasp out from the Aussie. It was uncharacteristic for the captain to show a pale face. Horrified. "Kent?"

"_Joanne is dead!_"

The two stared with wide eyes, stunned and slowly with creeping horror but Kent was already bolting before they could get any answers.

"Connor!"

The rookie didn't listen and naively followed after the fantasised Spanish woman as she quietly walked out of sight.

All the things he had wanted to tell her, the constant apologies he had wanted to say to her on that day he received the news. To be able to hold her warmth again. To finally be able to exchange their vows like they were supposed to...

So when she disappeared behind the corner, the terror of losing her again pushed him further.

"Joan-"

Around the corner, Joanne wasn't there anymore. Gone like air.

Only the pair of red-blood eyes behind a thin jelly membrane stared down at him.

"_**Connor!**_"

The training in his head vanished, consumed up by fright. And the Captain's voice seemed so far away.

He was petrified at the specimen climbing down the shelves, his first time ever seeing it but he had read the reports once. One would describe it as having 'outgrown its human skin' and a thin membrane-like sheet in a disgustingly blue and glassy colour kept its muscles, bones and organs all in from spilling out. Hardened shoulders and arms thickened out enough to be called giant skinless bat wings, the ends of the fingers thinned and stretched out like needles.

Faintly, he could make out the skull, teeth and eyeballs underneath the sheet - the only thing keeping that large and long amphibian-like specimen on narrow legs from eating at him.

Of course, there were the six hound-shaped tentacles snaking from its sides, each of them ending with sets of human teeth.

He never had a chance to scream.

"Connor!"

Kent's eyes bugged out in terror once he turned around the corner, already an audience to the ripping and tearing. He hurriedly lifted his shotgun up.

The flaying of Norman's limp body blocked his sight on the towering specimen. No good aim without hitting his comrade.

No, dead comrade. His teeth gritted at his helplessness.

Something flew over him.

_CRACK!_

A small little test-tube cracked onto contact of the creature, the smell of chemicals wavering in the air.

As the disgusting beast started to boat dizzily, Kent felt a feeble hand grab him tight.

"It's too late! We got to go!"

"...Shit!"

The three ran the other way. The drug was certainly not going to hold off for long.

Their hope, however, was answered at the form of the second door, an exit out of storage.

And of course, locked too.

Quickly, Iria began at the reader, knife back in hand.

_Stomp, stomp, stomp._ Steve veered back to the direction of the large footsteps. The freaky thing was using the high shelves like trees, slithering closer to them but in a clumsy fashion. This thing was still moving even when drugged! ?

Wait. Hang on.

An idea.

Steve leapt to the nearest shelf, hands pushing on it. It didn't easily budge at first, its legs fastened by bolts into the concrete floor.

It would have been a dumb idea for one human. But he wasn't human and kept at it.

The strain was already seeping out his adrenaline, green veins snaking under his skin.

_Kreee-THUD!_

He felt the shelf tilting, relief sweeping away his rising outburst before it could even start. But still the shelf wouldn't fall.

Come on! One more!

Another set of hands joined the shelf. He peeked up to see Kent, getting the same idea and shoving the mantelpiece with all his might.

_Kreee-THUD!_

The last bolts finally gave way. And the shelf fell down like timber, hitting the next one. And the next one arched down on the one before that.

Down, down went the shelves like dominoes.

One clawed foot went down with them and the disgusting sack monster shot its glare to the collapsing ledges. And it went down too, sinking underneath wood and boxes.

"Doc, hurry!" Steve hollered. Already, its tentacles were working at taking the fallen furniture off its body for it to wiggle out.

"It'd go a lot faster if I wasn't under pressure!" she snapped.

_Ding!_

"GO! GO!" Kent hollered, shoving open the door and the two slid out behind him.

_BAM!_

The large BOW raised its arm up, deflecting most of the shot. Stray pellets easily bounced off of the glass sheet.

Except for one. Revolting blue goo dripped from punctured hole at the side of its head.

It lunged.

Kent ducked right out of the door, watching the swift specimen crash onwards on something else. What it was, he didn't care. Leaping back onto his feet, he sprinted after Steve and Iria.

Up ahead of him, Iria had suddenly stopped - her hands on another device.

_BEEEEP!_

Right. The safety grill.

_CRASH!_

The sound of something being torn open drew him to look back. The huge tentacle-dressed monster pounced into the hall he shared, the flowing eyeballs inside its sheet bag swaying at him.

But he kept going.

"Come on!" Steve hollered from the other side of the descending grill.

The grill, each bar thick with titanium that an electric saw couldn't go right though them let alone claws and teeth, inched downwards along with his chance of escaping.

Dropping down on his knees, his body slid underneath it.

_BEEEEP!_

He could have slammed into the grill itself. He could have gotten his body split in two. But some sheer luck was with him that day because he most certainly made it.

_KA-CA-KLANK!_

The sack bag crashed into the grill, the teethed tentacles bashing into the narrow gaps to widen a hole for them. But it was pointless. Then again, it didn't know a thing about giving up.

"Hurry!" The two men streamed away from the grill at Iria's shout, seeing her at the staircase.

Further down in the half-dark hallway they were in, many glowing red eyes were staring at them.

Shades.

Iria jostled open the emergency door and they all leapt in - not without Kent jamming a broken piece of metal into the lever.

The door pounded heavily on the other side but they had already descended.

Steve was the first to reach the third floor, bursting out from the staircase. Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself as he hunched down with hands on knees. Iria was right behind him, catching her breath by a wall while Kent shut close the door.

At last, a small moment of peace and safety under flickering red light.

_BAM!_

Iria and Steve nearly jumped out of their skins, turning to the Aussie who had driven his fist into the door angrily.

Regret. He had just lost one of his own men.

"What the flamin' hell happened to you, Connor?" he muttered quietly.

"...Joanne Macias... She was there at the first outbreak, wasn't she?"

The tempest inside of him calmed down as he turned to the worried blonde.

Yup...that was her name. A scientist who worked in the DNA labs six years ago. A year before that was the first day on the job for the rookie and already, Norman was smitten by her on a stroll routine.

"...Rookie had asked me to be his best man a day before that outbreak."

Why did he have to say that? To get it off his chest? That Norman was gone?

He merely rested his head on the door. It had been a long time though. Very few people talked about the incident, as if trying to forget a bad nightmare.

Norman never spoke of it after he got the news about Joanne. If Kent hadn't stepped in as a captain, he was sure that rookie would have blown out his brains back then.

"I didn't know... About her and Norman..."

The Aussie straightened up. Fine time to be losing to stress. He shook his head at her. Already he could see right through her in taking in the responsibility. The guilt from six years ago.

"It's old news. Don't beat yourself around the bush," Kent spoke softly.

No time for rest, no time for mourning. He could do all that once they were out. The team was down to three, which meant getting on thin ice here on out.

So he couldn't lose his cool again.

He grabbed for the radio on his vest. It had been a while since the last contact.

"This is Williams. We've made it to Level C...but we've lost Connor."

_Click._

_"bzzz-bzzz...kst-bzzz..."_

He scowled. "Come in, Bravo, Charlie, Delta."

_"kst-bzzz-tsak...bzzz-bzzz..."_

"Arrgh. I knew this would happen," Kent cursed.

"What's wrong?" Steve warily asked.

Kent didn't answer - too focused on handling the radio.

"What?"

Iria replied instead. "I was afraid of this. With these thick walls and the servers down, it's expected we'd lose touch with the other two teams upstairs."

"Seriously?"

"We're hundreds of metres underwater far from the mainland. Do you think we can get good reception down here?"

Surprised, he pulled out his phone. Sure enough, the lack of a full bar was right there on the screen.

Oh. A message.

"Bravo, Charlie, Delta, do you read me?"

Before he pressed a button, the itching static from the radio distracted him away. No, not a good time to be reading.

"Bravo, Charlie, Delta, do you read me?"

Kent was almost about to call quits, his fingers lightly off the radio...

_"bzzz-bzzz...Will-ksst, bzzz..."_

A woman's voice.

"Piper," he uttered. "I hear you."

_" kst-bzzz-tsak...have some compa-ksst, bzzz, bzzz..._" The white noise distorted and stretched the words to almost inaudible.

"Say that again. You're breaking up."

"_bzzz, bzzz-HCF soldiers heading down-ksst, bzzz-tsak... Watch out-kaa-bzzz!"_

Two words perked the three right on alert.

"What's HCF doing inside at a time like this?"

"Something tells me Wesker sent them to pick up the Kronos virus in the mayhem. Figures as much," Iria grumbled.

"Well, now we know. We'll deal with them when we cross paths. For now, the doors," Kent urged, taking the lead. "The northwest exit isn't too far from here."

Just a straight walk. The only good thing so far was no infected. Good, the quicker they shut the exit door, the faster they could move on to the next one.

At the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw something...orange?

_BAM!_

"Ugh!"

He felt the pain surge at his left, like a pipe just swung at his skull. His legs gave way at the sudden change of momentum as the world spun around him.

Humiliating that he was taken down by a cheap shot.

"Kent!"

Laughter boomed about as he tried to comprehend. Sounded too familiar, as well as that orange colour circling around him.

"You assholes!"

"Ah-ah-ah! Don't move, pretty boy. Or this guy gets it."

"Don't touch me!"

"Doc!"

"We got ourselves a lady! Woo-hooo! Oh! Check out this tattoo too."

"Well, well. If it ain't one of the bosses, McLenlan. Was hoping it'd be that old git. We've been meaning to give that chief our gratitude for our humble time here. Ah well, can't complain... Clean them out. Make sure they aren't hiding anything."

The spinning and the ringing still wrapped his mind up as he felt his hands being seized and twisted to his back. He tried to struggle but was pushed down to the dust-littered floor. Worse, he felt lighter - shotgun, handgun, everything he carried taken off of him.

"Whooooa! Sweeet, this one's got a knife."

At last, his vision ceased its vertigo as one of the orange-clothed hooligans squatted down to the fallen officer. The ringleader, if he had to guess, as the grinning man with a goatee and recently-trimmed out mohawk style inspected him with sick curiosity.

He knew exactly what he was dealing with, especially from the tattoos on his neck, shoulders and arms. Drug trafficking, child trafficking, weapon trafficking all in the comfort of El Delmor, captured in 2004 and sent to this island after being admitted at his prison hospital for a mental breakdown.

One sick wanker.

"Welcome back to Deephall Center, Officer Williams."

What a fine time to be held captive by prisoners.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Enemy Data<strong>

**Scylla (Stage I)**

Based: Human

Created via: Combination of Kronos virus and T-Veronica virus, and further mutation

Purpose: Kronos Virus infection, BOW

Scylla is a specimen created when the Kronos virus and the T- Veronica virus are combined in an active host's body and undergoes a secondary mutation within it under harsh sea pressure levels. It was developed from a project intended for water-based strategy without having the body disintegrate easily in and out of water.

Internally, Scylla had underwent a dramatic change in which it literally grew out of its host's skin in mass and height. It has grown a thin jelly sheet in between its old skin and internal organs - surprisingly impenetrable to bullets and attacks. The sheet reduces friction, allowing them to move freely underwater and even on land with little to no sound. Despite this sheet seemingly covering its entire inner body, it still has all functioning senses, even smell - which some speculates that the sheet has fine pores in certain areas or that some parts are not sheet-protected. There are evidence to support this theory as it can receive damage at the sides of its head - where the host's ears originally were.

Its only way of consuming prey is by its six long, powerful tentacles on its back - both a minor accidental mutation setback and a potential method area of attack. Its front arms surprisingly serve little purpose in combat as it conserves its energy in both swimming, climbing and moving. If resulting to using its arms, it will easily tire out so it relieves on its tentacles for other functions.

Scylla is first encountered by team Alfa in Level B, trying to sneak-attack on them. It managed to kill one of the teammates, Norman, who had wandered away from the team.

In Greek mythology, Scylla was one of two monsters that lived in a narrow channel of water and attacked passing sailors who attempted to avoid Charybdis, the second monster, during their voyages. Originally, she was the daughter of a river God transformed into a hideous monster with four to six dog-heads ringed around her waist. In the famous literature, Homer's Odyssey, Odysseus successfully sails his ship through the channel past the two monsters but Scylla managed to catch six of his men, one head per one crew, and devoured them alive.

* * *

><p><strong>Norman Connor (Deceased)<strong>

_White Pawn_

**Date of Birth:** 1971

**Age:** 29

**Blood Type:** O

**Gender:** M

**Race/Nationality:** Caucasian/American

**Occupation:** Security, Private

**Teammate Class:** Field Agent/Medic

**Weapons of Choice:**

Melee – Combat Knife

Primary – Handgun (Security standard)

Secondary – Machine Gun, Tranquilizer Rifle

**Stats:**

Strength: **

Stamina: ***

Accuracy: ***

Wits: **

Speed: ****

Endurance: ***

**Ability:**

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

-Go to Level C.

-Escape from Scylla

* * *

><p>Vickie: What's up, all! Here is the next chapter you guys have been waiting for! And I had to say, MOST of the parts here, I did not expect to be writing them but I did. I had a few parts roughed out here and there but haven't completely connected them until I began writing them down. Even the monster description and its attack patterns were something I just recently thought off and way before this, I had already chosen Scylla as a BOW mini boss but no idea of what it looked like<p>

Speaking of what it looks like, it's um, kinda like that hideous monster with the tentacles in the Darkside Chronicles but not with the hand-mouth and it's less rigid and even more squirmy than that. With bat like arms and a human coat to boot. I know, sounds weird but it's a lot creepier in the description that this one. All I can say is it's loosely based on that mutation during Leon's second campaign but literally a moving jellyfish sack bag. :Y

And yeah, we have our first red herring. Norman Connor is a playable character but he's a fake one as Tim from earlier would be replacing him. I actually feel sorry about this though because again like the other characters, I really have given a lot of thoughts into them all that you start to connect with them. Yes, he's short-lived but come on! I feel guilty! D: You will be missed, Connor.

Also, we have our merchant. Actually, one of two merchants. Amelita Ramos is the RE merchant we'll be seeing. Kinda like the RE4 merchant but with a savvy attitude when it's about money. And yes, you have to buy for weapons, items and such with money and treasures. And funny story, I actually thought of adding that Cape Inacio used to be a place for pirate ships and hidden loot so literally, there will be gold and treasure lying around or picked up by the locals that you can just use as currency like RE4 style. XD

Now before I wrap this up, I'm gonna let you guys to make some deductions of how this all will pan out, even about the virus. This story revolves around the Kronos virus and while you won't get the full description of it, you'll learn bit by bit just how much of a powerful virus it is and how these people are going to stop it. :D Heck I've only just given at least the surface on the info about the virus. I warn you, there's gonna be a lot of twists and turns onwards.

Anyway hope you enjoy this chapter, even if there were a lot of talking but I still hope I kept the action rolling. Please read and review and look out for the next chapter!


	10. Chapter Nine: Full Circle

Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Difficult Choices<strong>

* * *

><p>THE WEST CELL BLOCK of Deephall was opened up from the inside - iron gates burst open, little empty cells and nothing but the aftereffects of a riot.<p>

It was a different prison than the one in Rockfort, three floors higher and had very much a certain air to it. The Rockfort prisoners in green jumpsuits were already dead, risen and moaning with whitened eyes. Here, men in orange were kicking, breathing and armed, the chaos giving them the upper hand.

A rather forceful escort they gave for the three captives into the cell block. And they weren't the only captives: four guards on the floor. They had been jumped, disarmed and had their hands shackled at the back with their very own handcuffs.

Just like that, the good guys were separated in order of who was the bigger threat - Kent shoved away from Steve and Iria, and shepherded to the other guards.

Not without some resistance.

"I said sit!"

_THUD!_

"Omph!" With a punch into the stomach by a big brute, the Aussie timbered down easily.

"You two! Down here!" A point of a nuzzle down to a pillar.

Iria was calm and quick to obey - it was futile to fight. Steve did try to struggle, only to have a hand on his shoulder push him down.

"Good. We are all here, all of the actors," the ringleader spoke up boastfully, his gleaming eyes fixed on Iria.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

"Now we're going to have a short meeting. Anyone who interrupts me will get a stomach full of lead."

No one dared.

He strolled away, satisfied.

_**Shit, shit, shit! **_The anxiety inside the redhead was at its thickest.

Had this been seven years ago, this would have been nothing.

But here was the thing. This wasn't Rockfort Prison. These prisoners weren't zombies, sluggish enough to be easy targets. Some of them had _**guns**_ pointed at innocent people. People _**with **_guns were more dangerous than zombies.

And he _did _have someone to lose, sitting right next to him.

Steve swallowed to clear away the annoying lump in his throat. As of right now, Iria's safety was his biggest priority. Kent was too far away but he knew more than anything the Aussie would be alright. Yeah, he'd be alright. Fucking guy was able to take him down throughout all those trainings rounds. _**Even **_when he went tyrant form.

Steve tossed a gaze across the group of guards, noting the defeated captain recovering from the blow to the gut. Too far away to hear the quiet conversation between blue-collars.

"What happened?" Kent managed to cough in secret.

One guard answered, trying to fight against the agony across his beaten face. "Prisoners bailed out once the doors opened. The rest outnumbered us. Killed a couple in the back. Couldn't do a thing." His bloodied eyes stared off to the distance at a heap of corpses hiding in the dark before sinking his head, miserable at his own incompetence. "Sorry, Cap."

Kent shook his head. "Don't."

The men downcasted their glances as the tough leader walked past, rambling on with his talk. The less he noticed, the better he knew nothing of their trade of information.

But an opportunity for escape and detainment, that was going to be difficult. Kent carefully eyed about the block. Not much for room to create one without endangering others.

"...Communications' been out since the blackout. What's happening out there?"

There was hesitation, no word coming from the captain. He refrained from answering for the sake of giving more troubles to these poor men. But the longer he stayed quiet, the more anxious they became.

So he had no choice but to give the answer, for a fraction of peace and mercy.

"Worst case scenario."

The tied up men squirmed quietly with disheartened hearts. Already looking like death had come.

Kent, however, remained focus. Because one thing tugged at his gut. Team Alfa's venture downwards had never come across any dead or undead men in orange.

Where did they go? Yes, the fate for them would just like any others'. But where were their bodies?

"Wondering where the rest of the crew went, Captain?"

A pair of eyes and a schmuck smirk fell upon Kent, returning a narrowed glare back to the ringleader.

"They should be rounding up the rest of you blue collars on the upper levels by now. Or got themselves killed." The Colombian shook his head disappointedly. "How impatient."

His eyes trailed to Iria. A smile creepily stretched.

"Why skip out on all the fun?"

With that, the cocky bastard strolled away, babbling on with his speech to keep morale high. "So what does the majority yield, men? Cast out your suggestions."

"Kill those bastards!" one yelled, jerking his gun at the downed guards.

"Tie them up and leave them here! We're so close to freedom!"

"Heeheehee! I sure'd love to taste that piece of meat." One pointed his shiv at the quiet director.

"Now, now. We don't want to frighten the lovely lady," Orozco exclaimed.

Oh, fuck it. Steve wasn't going to let these dumbbells touch Iria. Anyone'd come an inch near her and he would go all out in the transformation shit. They'd never expect one of their hostages would have the capability of turning beast. He would have to bite down on the bullets once he'd turn berserk but if anything, in that form, he'd do whatever he could to keep Iria safe.

That was all that mattered right now.

Just needed to stress himself out somehow-

Then he felt a shove. One turn and he found himself being glared down by Iria.

No. She shook her head silently.

Doc, what are you thinking? These guys are going to kill us!

But then he stopped himself once she turned back her fullest attention on the prisoners - eyes stern and icy. Iria was not the kind of person to stop him without a reason. She had a _good reason _to do so.

If there was something that her colleagues would describe her in three words, it was that she was an excellent chess player. Not just on the board but even in real life.

Steve never understood chess. Well, the rules anyway. He had a fair good amount of tries with Iria - to the best of his mental strategy - during his free time. In less than six moves, this chess champion who won that title at age five would easily take his king. She was quick-witted, unpredictable and above all, calculating in her conquests.

Somehow, one way or another, she was smart enough to apply the set of rules in any moment of crisis.

If it had been years ago, minus their friendship, he'd deem her as a loonie. Actually, if it had been years ago, he'd probably be jumping the gun and trying to scare off these prisoners like a crazed cowboy…

But Iria had proved him once how frighteningly capable she was.

So right there, she was examining. The board. The pieces. Where the pieces were. Figuring out the best course of action far too quicker than he would under this tense moment. If he had it his way, he'd be juggling these assholes about in his other form. Hell, a big green monster would be enough reason to turn those handguns off the temples of Kent and the guards.

Until he spotted something in the darkness. Actually, two _someones _on the second level. Whoever they were, they hid carefully in the blind spots of the structure's pillars.

Did Iria notice them before?

"Bring her up."

At the Columbian lord's command, one lackey grabbed her by the arm but not with some difficulty.

"Iria!"

"Sit, boy!" The point of a barrel forced Steve to freeze and retreat back.

With the sandy pressing of the teeth, Iria pulled and tossed against the tight grip, any attempt to break free. But the American man was bigger, stronger. Yes, he was an American - jailed for terrorism on a small multicolored community and was supposed to be given a trip to the asylum instead of a sentence - but in the light of things, it was better for someone to be led until they were outside, ready to cut ties, than to add to the bloody pile.

Besides, anyone who offered to be leader in his own sadistic ways was either going to get killed later or lead them out to freedom successfully. Moreover, none was stupid enough to out themselves to their newly self-appointed boss.

"Director McLenlan," Julio Orozco, Colombian ex-drug lord, greeted with open arms. "You're going to be our saviour."

A hard shove from her captive pushed Iria forth but she refrained her whole body to stand still, not on her knees.

Interesting, he thought. Even more interesting that a woman like her would spot a fascinating tattoo on her whole arm. Not as straight-to-the-point as those he and the inmates have.

But she was a woman, he thought

"So how goes your little project in curing the weak-minded?" he hummed. "Gotten a few breakthroughs on the psyche of a criminal? Oh, but we are so complicated as compared to some of our guests."

In the back, one thug dragged a middle-aged man - his voice whimpering and pleading, his face battered and his suit disheveled - into the light and tossed him across the floor.

"The warden here told us an interesting story. About how heavily protected this place is. About your nice little town outside. And that this is a very isolated location in the middle of the ocean. Now I don't care what you white coats have been doing. All I care is your cooperation, Miss McLenlan. Or is it ok to call you on first name basis?"

She remained silent, her gaze uncaring and distant.

"Quiet type, hm?"

His eyes dragged down to the ID tag around her neck, a hand holding it up for everyone to see.

A high-level security card with two blue diagonal stripes, one of few that easily unlocked all doors, all exits, everything within the facility and out.

He could have ripped it off her and shot her down. Instead, he let it go and briskly strolled away.

Which meant he knew about the voice command, she analyzed.

"Now we could just leave all of you behind and take what we need, but I suppose there are more dogs outside waiting for us at the pier. Good-hearted citizens will try to save the damsel in distress from a group of thugs. Hmph," he hummed, continuing his circling around the blonde. "We'll just have to make a point to them, I suppose. We just need that boat, that's all. And we'll be off our merry way. Don't worry. We'll treat you like a queen."

Nothing. Not even a stir out of her.

Oh well.

He gave a light spin, arms raised up.

"The rest, you're all useless to me."

Then the Colombian ran his fingers across his neck.

Guns aimed at the guards begging softly "No, no, no!". At Kent and Steve.

"Then you'll have to include me with them."

Orozco held up an opened palm. The guns lowered.

He wheeled back at Iria.

"Why? Have so much loyalty for your buddies? If you're a very intelligent woman as they say, you should consider your odds. Them in handcuffs, or us? I'm sure some of my boys are hungry to take a bite out of you. A little fun."

Some hooting and whistling. Gah, now Steve really wanted to smash their faces.

Iria still remained unmoved. "Them."

Orozco's eyebrows lifted. Amused. This was an unexpected response.

"I have better chance of living with them than with you."

He snorted. "Hear that, boys?"

Laughter around her.

"Amusing. Alright, I'm entertained. So what tricks do you have in keeping you all alive, miss?"

"...Naive."

An eyebrow cocked up. "What?"

"You heard me," Iria exclaimed calmly. Coldly. "Or have all the gunshots deafened you?"

The Colombian prisoner huffed. "I've heard of your reputation. Very admirable indeed. I prefer my ladies to be a bit more obedient though."

Oh, how much she wanted to laugh.

He had no idea.

"You'll be dead by the time you get to the exit. And if not, then by me."

"Oooh, what spark. I like that in a woman. Looks like I won't be disappointed."

Now she was so tired that she heaved a heavy sigh.

"Do you think you're the only _prisoners_ on this island?"

The question barely had any effect on him. It was a curious question but nothing more.

She continued regardless.

"I've searched for a way out off this island for nine years. What makes you think you can escape so easily by holding us hostages?" she asked. "We've already been hostages since the day we were employed. You're nothing special."

He looked at her. Puzzled.

"There's no point in trying. Not with everything happening upstairs."

"Really, now? Well, we won't know until we try," he hummed.

"I told you! Her card is useless! It can't open the main doors!"

"Be quiet, you old git!" The warden ducked his head down with the weak flapping of arms at the raised pistol.

"Enough with the charade, warden." Orozco muttered, his patience starting to draw thin. "I find it hard to believe none of you can leave this place so easily-"

"She can't leave!" the warden persisted. "It's the damn specimen that has her privileges!"

And all eyes were on Steve the moment the warden pointed the finger at him.

Ah, fuck.

Pretty much one fact was unavoidable within these walls. Every employee and employer knew about Steve because of two details; one, a lab rat with a very powerful virus running through his veins, two, a lab rat given access to roam freely about the island without any consequences all thanks to Iria.

As long as he behaved. That was the bargain.

As long as he behaved and Iria wouldn't take the fall for any repercussion he made.

It had been tense, a burden he willingly carried. Yes, the moment he tasted fresh salty air, he could have bolted out and left this island. Not sure how, but somehow. But not when the stakes became high. So he stayed for her sake. For the sakes of those he grew attached to.

There were several times the watchful eye of GAIAN would give warning shots at him. Many times when Wesker had played around with him just by pointing out names to drop his guard.

First, Claire. Then Iria. It finally hit the nail when he spoke out the names of Iria's family.

Why the fuck did that old git have to tell the whole world about him?

"Specimen? What does he mean?"

The barrel jerked closer to Steve's forehead. He could hear his own heartbeat tensely beat faster and faster, even his captor's.

He was already having an internal struggle to let Iria go on with her agenda or burst out right in front of the prisoner in green.

"Exactly what he means."

His eyes widened. He shot a bewildered glance at her.

_Doooc_, what are you doing?

The blonde slowly stirred a glance at the redhead. A change from before. Steady. Calm.

Meaningful. He knew her all too well during the time he spent on this island. Enough to be predictable.

Play along.

He gave a very small nod, his bright eyes focused and firm.

"I can't leave this facility even if I wanted to," Iria explained straightforwardly, wheeling back to the men. "This card is just for show."

Surprise thickly painted the prisoners' faces. This was good.

Nobody from this prison block knew about the crisis outside, the power failure, GAIAN's shutdown. No sign of infected wandering into the block and slaughtering the inmates.

So she told the truth. A truth with its meaning gone the moment the blackout occurred just to spin them around in circles.

"It's pointless whether you take me or not. This card won't open the main entrance. And that's good. Right now, the whole facility is on RED alert."

"Heh," Orozco croaked. "To keep us from escaping? Oh, you flatter me."

"You're the least of our worry."

He furrowed his eyes. That was another unexpected response. "Really?" He held out his arms as if to present the problem more clearer to her. "This isn't a problem to you? Heh. You're underestimating the situation, miss-"

"I'm talking about the outbreak, you idiot."

The smirk washed away in an instant.

Did he hear that right?

"O-Outbreak… What outbreak?" one inmate whined.

Iria didn't answer.

"Hey! What outbreak! ?" He jerked his weapon at her. "Tell us, bitch!"

"Now, now. Calm down," Orozco uttered, his posture calm and grounded. "Do you see anyone of us sick? Coughs, sniffles, running noses? Don't buy her bluff."

Understatement of the year, she thought.

"Pretty cocky of you to be making accusations, lovely," he jested.

Fine. Let's see how much of a bluff she was saying.

"Julio Orozco…" she called. "Leader of the Red Jaguars, cooperated with the Sacred Snakes during the 2002 t-Veronica drug operation until they were disbanded."

Steve's eyebrows rose. A familiar name indeed so it was a surprise to hear it but not enough for him to ask questions anyway.

"Suffered broken tendon during arrest in May 2003. Allegedly diagnosed with bipolar and antisocial personality disorder after you split your wife's head open. Called it domestic violence to hide the fact she was your drug mule."

A hand fired, grubby fingers ringed around her neck. Her face twisted at the sudden cut of air and the lifting of her body that she stood on her toes.

"Iria!"

But she refused to show fear. Frigid glare against frigid glare.

"You have a lot of gall to be bringing that out," Orozco spat coldly. "And on my darling."

"She was fifteen. You kidnapped her just like all the other girls. You didn't have any compassion for them."

Silence hung still between them. The composure from the good director was starting to irritate him, squeezing a bit more. Still, the skin of her neck felt just nice underneath his fingers.

How absolutely brave of her.

Then came the loud chuckles, booming through the empty halls. Iria dropped back onto the balls of her feet as the men stared in dismay at the exploding leader slap his knee.

"You're right. Can't be mad at that," he chuckled, folding his arms. "So what's the reason of revealing all of my info, dear lady?"

"I'm proving a point. _Everything_ I've said is the truth."

Orozco's grin softened - absorbing those two sentences from her.

The truth.

Which part was the truth? His past, his cartel, that was correct. His medical record, that was right on the spot. But then what did she mean by everything? The outbreak? No, that was some bullshit. "You have one sick sense of humor-"

"Heh."

A second voice intruded into the conversation and Orozco followed it back to the tied down Aussie.

Kent glanced at him with an amused expression.

"You know, I just remembered. Since we've been abandoned, there's nothing stopping me from spilling the beans."

"Be quiet, Williams!" hissed the warden, a frown curling more wrinkles on his face.

Then he shriveled back down once he noticed a cold stare from the Aussie. Zip it was all he was metaphorically sending to the quivering old geezer.

Everything went out the window the moment the power failed.

"Explain yourself," Orozco demanded.

Nothing out of his mouth.

Suddenly, Orozco yanked his pistol out from behind. The click rang loudly from the pull of the hammer. "Explain."

The tone was dark. Yup, that got his patience rackled.

All Kent could do was smirk to see the stupid criminal fall into his trap.

"This whole facility was built to make biological warfare."

At a drop of the needle, the whole block felt cold to the prisoners. Wide eyes jumped between Kent and Iria, desperately looking for any means of tearing at their statements.

Like one big fat joke from this humourous director and security guard.

And yet, Iria was unchanged for the entire time. No amusement, no laugh at their own digesting of information.

"All of you were transferred here because of 'physical and mental reasons'. Your wardens would rather sell you off then see some you leave by pledge of insanity or lack of treatment," retorted Kent.

"W-What?" One weak voice spoke out.

"T-This is some fucking bullshit! They're lying!"

"For once in your lifetime, why don't you _think_?" Iria interrupted. She was getting sick of seeing headless chickens gurgling from the fear and dismay. Sick of wasting more time in this prison when bigger problems were at foot. It was time to bring down the hatchet so they could move on. Hard. "Did you really think this is like any other prison? Haven't you found it odd over the years, some of your cellmates never returned after a simple 'checkup'?"

The colors slowly flushed out from the men's faces the more they listened to the fuel.

"All of you have been nothing but our guinea-pigs for HELIX's illegal experiments. Exactly like Umbrella."

The name slowly and all the more, surely, brought dread upon all of the orange-suited men. In their thick skulls, their little brains were connecting the dots. This was 2006 after all. There was no grown adult who haven't heard of the company's reputation.

"S-Shut up!" One wooshed his gun closer to her face. "You expect us to believe you're creating zombie freaks here! ?"

"Do we look like we're kidding?" The sentence was dull, tagged with tiredness.

"T-Then when that old man said _'specimen'_..." Steve's captor stared eye to eye at him.

The shotgun snapped back up.

Shhhhhit-!

"He's the least of your problem."

The barrel still hung in the air, the metal ring digging into Steve's forehead.

Thank GOD.

"What?" uttered the thug.

"Any minute now, based on their hunting patterns, the other specimens should be combing down to this block. The Kronos Virus isn't airborne or waterborne. But it is coming."

A loud shriek, ungodly but somewhere far in the distance echoed from beyond the closed main doors of the prison block.

Firearms held higher as the prisoners, tense and confused, glanced about for the source. Even the cool-headed ringleader, taking a while to proceed what he just heard.

"Do you hear them?"

The gang of cowards turned back to the woman.

So cold and so terrifying now.

"Would you like to say hello to your old cellmates again?"

Sweat trickled down brows. Teeth chattered as a few stepped away from her.

A woman who was weaponless and chained, and already they were fearful of her, no doubt running the unanswered questions through their minds.

Orozco swallowed, still keeping firm in his posture. Don't back down, all of this was bluff, he told himself.

But he could sense it. Call it intuition, whenever some undercover cop would waltz into one of his bases only to lead themselves into the rivers or shot dead at the head.

Danger.

Only, it wasn't danger that he expected, not as a knife, a gun.

It was an uncanny feeling running down his spine, the way her gaze seemed to be hawking him and yet staring off into the distance with boredom.

A villain standing right before him.

"And since this blackout started, this whole facility is overrun with 'freaks'. The moment you all step out is the moment you all will die by our creations."

"S-Shit! Shit!" one prisoner cursed, shaking his gun up and down.

"I-If she's telling the truth, we got to get out of here, Orozco!"

Then the hands raised up.

His panicked men halted, seeing their leader a bit shaken but not losing his cool.

"You are awfully calm, miss. You're in the same predicament as us." Orozco smirked at his own point. If there was no escape, then might as well take her down with him. "How are you going to get out of this alive?"

That gaze didn't waver. It didn't change.

What was wrong with this woman? She wasn't like the others in his life; scared, wailing, that loving little spark of yearning to live in their eyes.

"This isn't my first time."

The drug lord looked at her, puzzled. "What?"

"You heard me. This isn't my first time in an outbreak."

It was an indifferent, emotionless response seeping out of the calm, collected woman.

A quiet ticking bomb.

"Oh?" he song. "And what makes you so tough?"

What made her tough…

Experience.

All of those nine years have worn her down, strengthened her and prepared her.

"I've done a lot of things you cannot imagine. I've seen more bloodshed than you have in your silly little drug operations."

Orozco glared menacingly at her response but she stood still.

"I've killed people. What's more..."

Finally, Iria lifted her head up, eye to eye to the drug lord. Indifference. Apathy. That was all he could read. Something strange to be seeing on a woman that for once, it was sending shivers down his spines.

One twitch, one wrong move, one reason to give and something would burst out in front of him.

"I've stopped being a goody-two shoes a long time ago."

He couldn't help but raise a eyebrow. No, this was just a woman.

Just a bitch like all the other brats-

"Gargh!"

The noise came from behind and curiosity urged him to turn.

He was about to order his men to fire on the two intruders who had snaked down the stairs and one tackled down a straggler - two familiar faces he had seen during mealtimes.

Then suddenly, small chains roped over his eyes and immediately around the crook's neck.

"Gah!" He felt his back very heavy and metal dig deep into his apple. Hurriedly, his fingers ran up to try and pull whatever was around him.

Thin. Links. Short. Attached to cuffs-

Iria had ringed her own handcuffs around his neck and was using it to choke him to death.

Rather stupid of the men in orange to arrest her up front all because she was a woman - a harmless lady for their enjoyment.

How foolish indeed.

He thrust his elbow at his obstacle. That should have knocked the air out of her.

But she refused to let go.

"Doc!" A step forth but Steve's keen senses detected the hilt of the shotgun coming towards him.

Hands grabbed for the barrel and with a shove on it, he tossed that man helplessly aside. Immediately breaking off the cuffs with one straggling pull, the green veins snaking and dispersing before Steve seized up a pistol from the floor.

"Shit-!" The American prisoner didn't have the chance to pull the trigger at him.

It came swift - a clean slice of a handmade blade to the throat and air gushed out of his opened windpipe, not his mouth and nose. It ran so deep that his head turned nearly 180 degree just because he wanted to look back as his body, feeling all distant and foreign, dropped.

In the milliseconds before the thug's mind shut down, his wide eyes caught the cruel smile - a glimpse of a pale-skinned man in his late thirties with his orange suit open halfway and the sleeves tied at his waist, a single white top covering his mildly-sturdy physique. Overgrown brown hair in disorder, sunken greyed-out blue eyes, broken shackles from the solitary cell around the wrists, the links snapped off by the whack of some heavy weapon.

Ah.

That Russian psycho from upstairs.

Fuck-

He was gone in the head the moment his body plopped to the ground.

All was chaotic. Some aimed their weapons at the newcomers but two were knifed down easily while some were gunned down by his friend and Steve. One stray prisoner made a mistake in backing away, in the path of Kent. Immediately, the Aussie's legs launched at the inmate's and forced him down to the ground before knocking the wind out of him with a elbow to his diaphragm. He was quick, diving for the keys and working his arms to uncuff himself free. Once that obstacle was done, the prisoners all too busy to notice, he chucked another blow at the fallen man for good measures of getting up, grabbed for his gun and took aim.

Then everything became slatemate.

The circle of armed prisoners were surrounded. The two outsiders on one side, Kent at another and Steve from behind. No openings, no one dared to move at the drop of a shot as they desperately shielded themselves with pointed guns.

The first one to fire and all would be dead.

One attempted to draw his own firearm at the director-

He stopped.

Right in the middle, those hazel eyes were icy cold.

All the elbow thrusts were only making the chains tighter and tighter. Orozco's legs slowly turned to jelly, the weight pushing his body onto his knees and elbows.

"Gah...ko-gah," he desperately gasped for air.

_Someone get this bitch off him_, he tried to voice out but the blurry scene around him told him that everyone was incompetent.

"Gaah-ah…"

"Put your guns down or he gets it," Iria hissed madly, gripping down on her handcuffs tighter on his apple.

Her glare was dark and petrifying to them, like a tigress bearing her teeth deep into the neck of an unfortunate prey. Didn't matter to her if the cuffs were digging deeper into her skin with every inching pull. She meant business.

"You have no way off this island."

The tension hung for a minute until finally, the opponents gave in.

Down went the firearms and up went the hands. In the background, the gun still pointed, Kent worked his way to unshackle the other guards and one by one, they grabbed for one of the fallen weapons as their own.

Once the advantage went to all of the guards, Iria unhooked herself off the drug lord to his gasping for air but not without shoving him back to the surrendered men with a kick at his rear.

"Iria." With a gallop in his legs, Steve rushed over to her, checking from head to toe for any wound or bruise. Any sign that would give him reason to clock at that jerk.

"I'm fine, Kiddo," she reassured him, forcing out the mild pain at her side with a deep breath. "All his blows were nothing. With that tendon injury of his."

Down her gaze went to the fallen man, seeing his face riveled with anger, psychotic distress, all sorts of the mannerisms of his mental state.

"Insulting, isn't it?"

Salt thrown into the wound. Orozco leapt up to try and strangle at the ignorant woman-

"Don't think about it."

In one second, his whole body halted at the thrust of the Aussie's gun. Point blank.

"Detain them. We've got enough problems with the infected running about."

The prison guards divided, some stayed firm in where they stood after being released - their eyes and retrieved weapons hawked on their attackers - while the others ventured forth with their orders. A bit of wrestle here and there but one by one, all the prisoners had their places swapped with their hostages.

With a heavy sigh, Steve drooped down his shoulders. Glad that was over. Glad it didn't exaggerate. Glad for a lot of things. "Really, Doc. You either got balls or you're nuts. Or both."

"Meh." She shrugged. "He was just asking for it." The director then shone out a look of shame. "I was hoping I didn't put you out there in the spotlight like."

He huffed, flattered but upset she was putting his life over hers for mediocre problems. "Doc, I'm used to that kind of shit."

"I nearly got you killed."

"And you put too much faith over me to stay put, with that stunt of yours there."

"It's called trust. Besides, didn't I already say you're like my son?"

A beam stretched on his face. He then reached down to her handcuffs and with another pull, the metal and links broke off. Just his inhuman superstrength.

Finally, she thought, rubbing at the red rings around her wrist.

"Director McLenlan!"

Then she glowered angrily at the voice.

"T-Thank you," uttered the pleased warden, up on his feet. "Those men could have killed us if you didn't-"

_POW!_

And then she punched the old oaf.

"Oh, shut up and crawl back into your hole," she spat at the cowering warden on the floor, rocking back and forth with his bloodied nose.

"Really?"

"What?" She scorned. "He picked you out."

His smile widened. Yup, she was both.

What would he have done without her around.

The thought then rang something deep in his gut, the beam softening down.

"Hey, Doc?" he called, Iria turning to him. "About what he said… You can still leave, right?"

It was a peculiar question that caused Iria's eyebrows to lift. Already, the kiddo showed a hint of concern, worry. Guilt.

She refrained from telling him once more. That was a year ago and she had stuck by her choice since then, the sacrifices she made for him.

Still, she thought. She laid out one important fact.

"GAIAN's offline. There's nothing holding me back here."

The answer slowly perked him up. Like it was stupid of him to ask. "Yeah. That piece of junk is offline…"

The tone said it all, he wasn't convinced. The fact stood strong but there was some crack he was worriedly trying to search, less some cruel fate would cause her to fall through.

Take her away from him like his own family...

"Hey." Iria's tone was neither firm nor soft. But it always had that reassuring tone to him. "We're getting out of here and off this island. Everyone of us."

The last sentence held out weakly to him. They've lost few friends already and the number was probably counting down. Still, he acknowledged it with a timid nod.

Yeah… This was their last chance to get off the island. Lose it and it blows.

"And I'm sick and tired of having cabin fever every day."

A huff of a laugh forced its way out of Steve.

"The sooner we close those doors, the sooner we can leave," she assured him and turned her attention to the rounding of the prisoners, guards attentive at their reclaimed duty.

"What should we do with them, Captain?" one guard asked.

Really, what should they do, Kent thought. "We can't leave them here and it's too dangerous to move them up. Take them to the clinic wing for now."

"Better to leave these lunatics to the specimens for what they've done," a second guard mumbled quietly, sending death glares at his foes.

"By all means, go ahead."

It was a shock. The guard glanced up, just to confirm his word was true. Or it was a joke.

Only to flinch back at a stern look from the captain.

"But we are not staying here for you."

"What-?"

"If you want to stoop to their level and kill them off, go. The rest of us are not gonna be wasting time with getting payback when we have bigger problems. Or have you forgotten about your folks outside?"

The question hit the prison guard on the nerve, his head arched down and a bite on the lip. "...No, sir."

Kent gave a nod and returned his watchful eyes on the inmates, all in a line. "Move."

None of the orange suits objected.

Then out of the blues, the pistol stirred right to the Russian man.

"You too," Kent ordered, his stare edgy and dark.

Swept in for a second time, the atmosphere hung thinly.

"Whoa! Whoa!" the African Australian prisoner leapt up, arms out like trying to calm down a pack of wolves. Which seemed to be doing the trick. "Wait a minute here!"

"Step away, Stuart," the Aussie warned.

"Cool it, Kent! He helped us. If it wasn't for him, you'd be dead by now."

"He's a serial killer!"

Steve's eyes bugged out, jumping from the Aussie to the pale man. Did he hear correctly? No, he heard it loud and clear. The two words were something unexpected and incomprehensive to be heard in their predicament that Steve couldn't help but repeat them. "S-Serial killer?"

The phrase was still enough to put him, an infected person with a beast under the skin, and others on edge. Not the blonde or Kent, one unfazed and the latter cautious by that known fact.

The Russian man in a methodical demeanor turned towards the opposing group, his eyes on Iria - perhaps curious to see only her remaining still as a tree or simply looked at her because of her obvious status of authority she wore. Whatever the reason was, he did not speak or retort. Certainly, he wasn't stupid when a gun was deadlocked on him.

"I've read your report," Iria stated calmly. "Daniil Mihaylov. Moscow, Russian SFSR. Served in the Spetsnaz groups until one of your own man called you out for seventeen murders. Escaped from prison and fled to USA under a different alias. Only to be arrested for your eighteenth victim."

The annoying lump in his throat rose back up and then down by a swallow as Steve turned a glance at the pale-skinned man. Yikes. He wasn't too sure which to be afraid: the zombies or a psychopath who enjoyed killing with a handmade knife?

Actually, he had met a psychopath before. But the cool and calm composure this Daniil guy omitted under the intense atmosphere was very much difficult from that sister-loving sicko. Come on! He frigging sliced off that inmate's head!

The Russian was unaffected by the facts Iria rebuked at him. A smile spread across his face - a sign he might as well join along for the ride.

"True. But there is one mistake in that file. It was not seventeen murders."

Iria showed no sign of reaction. But he continued on.

"Hm. So...this place is overrun with outbreak, yes?" he asked. "More interesting than my time back home… If what the Australian said was true." The crooked knife in his hand swayed briskly to Kent and then back to Iria. "I assume I was bought by your company because of my mind, correct?"

A timely stiff moment before Iria nodded.

He lightly huffed, scratching his light bristled neck. "Well, is good this outbreak happened first before I become a monster."

"You are a monster," Kent groaned threateningly.

"Really? But difference between the nezhit and me is that I am not mindless.

"Besides, have dealt with them before," he explained. "Visited Raccoon City to find an _old friend_." Daniil gave a shrug. "In the end, I never found him. Was forced to leave."

"So you're saying you want to _help _us?" Iria inquired. "These aren't like those t-Virus-infected specimens-"

"They move slugglish, yes? They go on instinct but are still predictable. Have the same vital weaknesses as the nezhit back then. I've met some on our way here already. Also, is not so much for your own benefits. More for mine," he corrected. "You say this is an island. And these nezhit are loose. So I have a better chance of getting out alive by cooperating with you."

"Oh, you're gonna cooperate," Kent snapped, "Quiet," Kent barked, then directed his eyes to one of the guards. "Arrest him. If he doesn't cooperate, use force."

One blue collar gulped loudly but still ceased out his handcuffs.

"Ah, but I like my hands free. Need to un-rust my skills if I want to live."

WIth what target? On the zombies or on us, the ones breathing, Steve thought nervously.

The guard stepped cautiously closer, one gun out as his only frontal form of protection. But the prisoner didn't flinch.

"Isn't me asset a waste when there is bigger fish?" Daniil continued his negotiation.

_Stomp, stomp, stomp!_

It was soft. Faint. Far away. But Steve definitely heard it, turning away from the conversation to let his ears hear again..

"Or is it my bad reputation? I understand. I have killed many."

"That," Iria spoke out. "You are far too dangerous to be left alone, Mihaylov. And it is for your own safety. While I respect your tenacity to jump right in, I call it careless to be risking your life against the infected, even if it is for your own sake. As of right now, everyone's lives are important. And that include the prisoners… Even if one is a serial killer."

Daniil smirked. "Ah,good to see my charm rubbing off on you, lady. What say I treat you to a drink after this is all over?"

Iria scowled displeasingly. Oh sure, a drink and a slit to the throat. "No, Declined."

"Aw, how sad."

Still she persisted on. "So if you want to help us, then don't fight. We'll take you up to the surface safely."

"You heard her," Kent barked, drawing down an immediate end to the pointless talk. "Now drop your weapon and lift up your hands."

Daniil refused quietly.

_Stomp, stomp, stomp!_

"Lift them up now or I'll sho-!"

"Shut up!" the redhead screamed at the top of his lungs. The many eyes on him nearly made him flinched like a little kid yelling for attention in a group of adults. Still, they were all so noisy! Quickly, Steve wheeled back to the direction of the sound with an ear perked high.

"What?" Kent asked, readying up his shotgun.

Narrowing of his eyes, Steve grounded his teeth. "Something's coming."

All eyes turned back to the large doorway of the prison block. They all squinted to see what was coming and soon was greeted with an answer. The small pairs of red glows were faint under the light but they were present.

"Close the gates!" Kent ordered, already marching forth and shotgun pointed straight at the darkness. Two guards immediately jumped to the order with hands on the sides and slowly pushing the heavy barriers.

"But those gates are electronic, right?" Steve blurred out worriedly. "They won't close."

"Someone get a welding tool, pronto!" Kent barked with his left hand smashed flat hard on the metal and sliding one side of the door close in a slow pace.

"L-Let me go!" One inmate yelled. "Uncuff me!" But no one listened.

The humans, plus one specimen, had only few minutes to close off the only path. In the blinking-red-lit hall, bodies were staggering. Slowly, sluggish step by sluggish step, the Shades were approaching the cellblock. Shepherding down like hungry lambs without argument.

_Stomp, stomp, stomp!_

And the shepherd peered up its sack-like head at the humans rushing to close the doors. One of the six hound heads slithered swiftly at a nearby Shade. In one swoosh, the small and many teeth - the likeness of a lamprey - crunched onto the walker's shoulder. With the flexibility and strength of an elephant's trunk, it hauled the body like a baseball.

Something flew over Kent's line of sight that urged his muscles to tilt the shotgun up. But it zoomed to fast for him to proceed to shoot.

_FLOMP! _He stirred round just for a second to see the undead body dropped behind him, right onto the prison floor.

"What the-?" Few heads turned at the sudden distraction before wheeling back to the door.

"Oomph!" A second Shade was thrown right at one of the doors, the force sending a guard off his feet.

"Uncuff me!" the inmate begged, shoving up his hands for release. "_**Uncuff me!**_"

A flash of teeth rose up from behind him. The very same Shade first tossed into the hall had risen back up.

Drop went the teeth on the inmate's neck. "GAAGH!"

"Shit!"

"Fire! Fire at it-AGGH!" A Shade dropped onto the guard, arms lashed quickly around his shoulders. He screamed in agony, feeling dentals bite hard on his spine.

With the new approach of disorder, everyone's attention flayed about - their minds racing on what to do first, then second. Only Iria kept her focus on the bewildering phenomenon of flying zombies.

Why? Why was this happening? Zombies didn't just become grasshoppers with power in their legs. Another specimen was giving them the boost they needed to apprehend their prey.

This was a strange behavior, one she had never seen the caged-up specimens do. But it demonstrated high intelligence, and for some reason, this specimen was grabbing zombies and tossing them in like ammo-

An hypothesis swiftly struck in her mind and Iria's eyes filleted wide at the shocking and horrifying realization.

"Scapegoats," she hollered. "They're throwing in scapegoats!"

"What! ?" Steve hollered. "Fuck!" He swayed his lugers up at a tossed in Shade, already climbing up onto its feet and charging at him with bared teeth. The bullets flew right at the torso.

While those with the firearms fought back, those arrested scattered about - some bundled into the empty cells for protection, some scrambled behind the very fighters they had beaten before. Few cowered, hunched down and trying to make less of an eye catching target.

Only two remained stiff. One was unfazed by the pouring threat. The other was tensely holding his crowbar tight and ready for a swing.

"Tim!" The African Australian prisoner wheeled to Iria's voice, enough to catch a glimpse of her tossing the small little device. "Catch!" With the reflexes of a catcher, his hand easily darted at it.

Closer inspection and he grinned. A small portable laptop. With HELIX's logo printed on it.

He nodded at her and sprinted down to the right of the hall.

"Kent, Steve! Distract them off him!"

"Wait, why?" Only the redhead hesitated, not seeing the picture that the captain had already leapt into. Nonetheless, seeing the two adults leap forth, he followed suit.

In the background, Timothy Stuart flipped open the laptop and went to work, rapidly tapping away once it started up.

"Stuart, you better get those drones out!" Kent hollered.

"I've only been out for thirty minutes into this shit! Don't pressure me!"

Swift went his fingers, each smashing at the keys. It's been years, yes, but the further his eyes scaled across the code, the more he was getting at being familiar again with it. A second nature was coming back to him.

He hit the enter key.

Quick as lighting and at his summoning, a little 'something' that could be considered a mini-helicopter swooped into the scene - ejected out from the mechanical foldings of the walls. A drone, its name "Strix 5.0" printed across its metal body and a creation drafted and hammered out of the forges of the tech department, was in a prisoner's hands. Its only robotic eye emitting the color red zip-zapped at its surroundings with the moving of the joystick, all while hovering in midair by two large circular-based propellers holding it in midair.

Another hit of the keys and the small machine gun slotted at the belly of the metal bird wheeled to its prey.

_Rat-tat-tat-tat _it screamed loudly, bullets digging into meat.

"What the fuck-! ?"

"Steve, Timothy Stuart. IT tech and robotics engineer from control centre," Iria introduced, her fullest attention at shooting down a Shade. "Tim, Steve Burnside. Friendly specimen."

"Control centre? Engineer?"

"Specimen? Wait, he's _that _guy-"

"Questions later! FIRE NOW!" hollered Kent angrily.

The tone was harsh and loud over the wailing of bullets, enough to hunch down the two men meekly back to their firing range.

"Fuck this!"

"No, stop!" a guard yelled. From behind, the prisoners, excluding the Russian man, fled away. Screaming, wailing, their pathetic attempts in escaping from being a gory meal, all these actions were nothing more than drawing more attention on the Shades.

"Forget them!" Kent ordered. BAM! went his retrieved shotgun. "We need to contain the infected! We can't let them get to the surface!"

"GARH!" screamed out one guard as a prisoner zombie, primal instinct replacing all sense of morals and consciousness, dove right at the neck and dug his teeth into flesh. As quickly as the pounce happened, the Shade was whacked by the swing of a baton by another guard. One second, the blue-collared man glimpsed down at his friend, dead by the cut of the jugular artery, the next, he swayed up his firearm and fired. Again at the battered Shade that jumped back up onto his feet.

_Stomp stomp stomp!_

It was faint under the fire and screams but Steve's sensitive ears picked up the familiar sound again. The _stomp stomp stomp_.

"He's back!" Steve warned. And just that-

BAM! -one of the metal doorways was forced wide open by the swinging whack of the jellyfish-like specimen's head, its body snaking into the prison and crawling up across the wall.

Kent muttered out a curse, the word broken halfway through as he aimed his shotgun dead at the giant BOW, now on the ceiling. _BAM! _A miss!

And what luck did that thing had to drop behind the group of fighters and prisoners.

"AHHH! AHHHHHH!"

"N-No-!"

The six hydra heads snapped right at six targets: three prisoners and two guards, chucks of their own bodies chewed off in a second.

"Geezus-," Tim shut himself from continuing and circled the analog stick. Immediately, the drone wheeled its machine gun around and fired at its bigger opponent.

"BROOUGAAARH!" the specimen wailed, like hearing a scream through a water balloon filled with blood and organs. The .50 caliber magazine running in a rate of 300 per minute pierced through its very fine membrane, forcing it to recoil back from further assaults.

Then an arm frayed forth.

_CRANK! _The wing of the drone broke off like a twig as the flying machine wobbled down from the great force. Into a screeching dive, the

"Shit!" Tim yelped, scrambling back near Iria while he quickly and frightfully tried to command another drone out. "I'll calling in another Strix!"

"Forget it! We have to fall back!" Kent urgently ordered. By the time another flighter came, they'd be overwhelmed by the increasing shades and one big BOW. Now was the chance to retreat while the big problem was still down. "The clinic! All of you get to the clinic!"

_BAM! _

Swiftly, the remaining guards obeyed his order without question, carefully sidestepping to another route out of the prison block. A few orange-suited survivors were left, quickly harnessed up onto their feet to come along. No more games if they wanted to live.

Tim stopped himself from following the group, noticing that three people wouldn't budge from fighting against the threat. Kent hurried to the main entrance and slipped the heavy metal shut along with Steve already rushing over to manually pull down the locks. Iria stayed back to clear away stragglers.

The doors bashed loudly at the beating of more zombies wanting to come in.

"What about you?" Tim asked, helping the Aussie to pulling in the locks.

"We have to close off the outpost exit," Kent answered. "We can't let the infected get out through there!"

His face paled at hearing those urgent words. "Shit… What about the plans? What about all that talk 'bout leaving this place-"

"Stuart!" Kent barked and gave a strong, meaningful glare. "We're on our own here."

Tim bit his lower lip, his gut turning at the sheer grimness of the situation.

While they were distracted with the gates, panic and dismay had concealed one small little ball, the frightened warden on the ground. He was no courageous man but his own men would be enough bait while he's sneak away. It was the same panic and dismay that pushed him up on his trembling legs and slowly paced himself to another exit of Deephall prison.

Only to be spotted in a glimpse by Iria.

"Wait!" she hollered but the warden didn't listen. He sprinted onwards and out of the prison hall.

She wasn't the only one who spotted the shrewd cowardly man. Dashing in pursuit was Orcozo, his face dark and maddening instead of the terror in his abandoned comrades' eyes.

And out of the blues, the giant BOW decided to change plans: shaking off its disorientation and dashing out of the block to flee from anymore bullets. The same path as the warden and criminal.

Iria's eyes frayed open wide at the terrible realisation flushed into her mind.

"STOP! STOP IT!" she hollered and gave chase.

"Doc!"

"Dammit-Go! NOW! We'll catch up!"

The voices dulled from the warden's ears the further he ran, huffing and puffing. He didn't care what that woman was saying, nor did he look back one final time. Escape was all that mattered. Get out of this infested den and live.

Then at the turn of a corner, he caught sight of the exit route to one of the eight outposts. Keep running, his brain screamed. You'd be safe once you get to the island!

Naively happy, he dug into his coat for his own ID card. His ticket out of the facility. The stupid prisoners didn't think twice in searching deeper.

It would be a long dash across the underwater glass tunnel once he broke through the first entrance but it'd be fine, he told himself. The card was high-level. It was going to be alright. He'd live. His life mattered more than those crazy people, trying to lock down this place! With him in it!

Let all those nitwits rot with the infected-

"Give me that, you old git!"

"GAH!" He tumbled down, chin banged hard on the floor. The daze lasted for a second, enough for him to realize the ex drug lord having fallen along with him, climbing forth to his hand.

His ID card.

"No! Get off!"

Orozco fastened his elbow down on his neck. Kill the oaf for keeping this a secret and for being a nuisance. And yet, for someone being a pain in his ass for the last three years, he was putting up a fight. "Ah-ha! Think you have the balls to fight me, you damn oaf? Give me that card!"

"Stop! W-We can work together! Those specimens will come and-"

Orozco changed his mind in a snap. All the jumbling from the git's mouth was wasted time. Hands immediately lashed right at the warden's head before he could continue his proposal.

_BAM!_

As strong as an ox, Orozco bashed down his head. He could feel the skull crack like an egg. And then he did it again.

_BAM!_

And again.

_BAM!_

"Do you like that?" Orozco hollered with an ending chuckle and at every smashing of the warden's skull. "Do you like that! ?"

Bone caved in. The taste of iron was delightful as the warden's head spewed out liquid. His brain was just mash after the tenth beating that the panting criminal finally let go because his arm was overworked.

It was a nice splashing sound the dead warden made on contact to his own bloody pool.

"Heheeheehee… I'll be taking that." He had almost forgotten he was in a dire situation. Swiftly, he snatched the bloodied card and stood back up. "Thanks for the stress relief, warden. But I have to take my lea-"

A flash of blue slithered, from his right.

The large thin fingers stretched around his head.

Too late. Orozco didn't have a chance to see the monster sink its main teeth and its polycephalic heads onto him.

_CRUNCH!_

As easy as biting a tomato. Blood sprayed as the creature unlatched its hind legs off the wall like a jumping gecko to plant itself down on the ground, enjoy its meal without gravity in the way. The fluids it sucked out quickly replenished the lost liquid spewing from the closing bullet wounds, its baggy form slowly inflating back up to its original look. Satisfied, it turned its eyes - plopping up and down within its watery sack - to the other fallen prey. No good, the heart had already stopped inside this little old prey and the taste wouldn't be as delicious as the recent meal.

Then a beam of blue light caught its attention. Curiously, it stood up and searched for the strange color.

It was streaming out from the entrance into the glass tunnel.

Blue. The color of water. The color that it has always zoomed about. Familiar medium. Calm. A barrier that gave it momentary peace from the cattle prods and needles. All in all, the water was welcoming to the specimen and it well knew what the blue light meant to it as it inched forward like reaching out for a colorful lure.

It was freedom.

* * *

><p><strong>Game Objections:<strong>

- Keep out the Shades

- Stop Scylla

* * *

><p>Vickie: Yes. YESSS. I've finished this chapter. After so long with so many writer's block, I'VE FINISHED IT. MUAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!<p>

GOD are conversations during tense moments tough. :L That's not to say I dunno if I did well or could have gone another way.

Originally, also, this was supposed to have two major events: the prison part and the specimen in the tunnel but saying how I went that would make this too long with both events, I decided to cut this into 2 chapters. It's kinda a bummer that I'm extending the story by a bit but can't be helped. I actually am afraid that the longer a chapter is, the more it might be dragging for you guys (and I do know sometimes, I either could have shortening something or don't check my work after uploading until I update the next day). I still hope I'm keeping to the intensity and drama that you are enjoying but as well, not giving you anything boring. :L I get it too, I'd want to get to the juicy parts instead of having fillers. Hence why this forceful 6000+ limit.

Anyhow, it's nearly midnight (should be then once I upload this) and yes, I have to leave this at a cliffhanger. Will this Scylla really escape into the island? Will Iria and the others try to stop it? Well, I'm a bit unsure myself cuz all the events in my head are in bits at the moment. Anyhow, enjoy this long-awaited chapter and review! I'll try to get the next one up as soon as possible!

Extra note, there are some more changes on characters that I'll be editing. Such as Tim being Australian African (due to some backstory and interaction between him and Kent, not major especially because they are also in different work fields).

Extra note: Btw, did you see the little easter eggs I put in here? :3c

PS. haven't checked for mistakes. Too late to edit it. XD I'll fix them tomorrow. Sorry for that.


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